


Make Loathe to Me

by LilithDeniel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Draco Malfoy, Angst, Drarrython, Ferret Draco Malfoy, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Harry Potter, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, I'm Sorry, Lols, Love/Hate, M/M, OTP Feels, Patronus, Please Don't Hate Me, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithDeniel/pseuds/LilithDeniel
Summary: A year. It wasn't that long, Harry supposed. If he thought about it, it was only about a total of eleven months, minus Christmas holidays, sick days and vacations, which he would no doubt, need and deserve by the time they came around.Eleven months. That was only about 45 weeks. Which was only around 315 days. Which was only 7560 hours. 453,600 minutes of Draco Malfoy. That was all.Harry tried to be optimistic, but the situation was too grim to get any further than beginning to count down the minutes.He would have to spend approximately 453,599 minutes alone with Draco Malfoy.Merlin help him.





	1. Harry Potter And 'Why The Bloody Hell Was I Put In A Partnership With This Arsehole?'

**Author's Note:**

> A little Drarry fic that may or may not be continued. Weather I decide to keep uploading probably relies on how many reads it's worth but whatever. If you like it please tell! Enjoy xx

"No. No, no, no, no, no." Harry Potter blinked down at the sheet of parchment in his hand through his round glasses. "I can't be paired with him!" The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had just released the year's Auror Investigative pairs and a list containing each Auror's partner had been owled overnight to every Auror in the Ministry. "There must be a mistake," Harry muttered as he rounded the corner, headed to the Auror Offices for further investigation as to why he had been paired with this particular individual. Eyes glued to the parchment, scanning the writing over and over again in hope of a mistake, it came as a shock when Harry collided with another person coming in the opposite direction. His head hit the floor hard when he fell, and his glasses clattered onto the cold marble stone next to him. Harry groaned, lifting his head and searching for his glasses. A blurry figure was furiously brushing themselves off less than a few metres away.

Harry's hands brushed over the cool frames of his glasses and he returned them to his face, turning back to look at the person he had knocked into. A cold, familiar voice greeted his ears and accompanied a long face, framed with soft blonde locks, completed with a hard, sharp stare. "Watch where you're going next time, you-" The man looked up from his hands which were still brushing furiously over his overly expensive robes and faltered when his eyes met Harry's. "Oh. It's you, Potter." Draco Malfoy spat, now caught off guard, his only defence was to attack. Harry's already bad mood darkened, not feeling fit to deal with Malfoy's rubbish, today.

"Malfoy." Harry realised that the piece of parchment that he had been studying moments ago was now no longer in his hands. He panicked. If he could change the partners before Malfoy saw the list, then Malfoy would never need to know that they had been paired together. The last thing Harry needed was the prat getting any ideas into his head. That Harry might have requested they work together. That would be the death of him. Spotting the parchment, Harry bent down to scoop it up, but Malfoy was quicker. "Writing a love poem, Potter?" Harry's insides boiled as Draco lifted the parchment to his face and his eyes danced over the writing. Malfoy raised one delicately sculpted eyebrow. "I was not aware that The Department had released the listings yet," Malfoy said, eyes still grazing the paper, evidently searching for his own name. Harry felt his stomach flip when grey eyes flickered back up to meet his. Harry watched Malfoys expression change rapidly from shock to determination. "Potter, I have a meeting to go to. Why must you always waste my time?" And with that, Malfoy thrust the parchment back to Harry, turned on his heels and stalked in the opposite direction to where he had been heading prior to their collision. Harry watched Malfoy disappear into a crowded lift full of weary witches and wizards who all took a cautious step backwards when the man entered, paying them no mind, and waited until the lift's doors had shut and sunk through the ground. Harry lifted the parchment to his face again and studied it.

And sure enough, the words had not changed. Near the very bottom of the page, just underneath Borris Crockford and Anita Woolsworths' names were the words that Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding and muggle worlds, the Chosen One, the Golden Boy, was most afraid of- Mr Harry Potter - Mr Draco Malfoy

It would have been an understatement to say that the tiny witch behind the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's main desk was frightened when two very important, and considerably famous wizards came storming into her office, one after the other. It would also have been an understatement to say that the blonde man she knew to be Mr Draco Malfoy was upset. -He was furious. She was relieved to hear the door of the office open again after five whole minutes of attempting to explain to the Auror that the partners had already been decided and were unable to be changed without upsetting the whole system. This had resulted in a "System? What system?" Before the blonde could continue, the door to the office had swung shut, and another man had entered the office.

Harry muttered a low, "Oh, for the love of Merlin." Could he not go anywhere without being haunted by this man? Draco Malfoy turned from the desk where he appeared to have been getting quite worked up with the woman behind the counter. "Mr Potter, what a pleasant surprise!" The witch spoke from behind the desk, clearly relieved that she no longer had to deal with the other Auror's anger. Harry thought he heard Draco mutter something darkly before stepping around Harry and heading for the door. He shook his head and sighed, nodding to the woman behind the counter. "The pleasure is mine." He placed the parchment down on the desk and pointed to where his and Malfoy's names were printed neatly on the page. "I'd like to inquire about changing the partners for this year's field investigations." The witch's shoulders sagged slightly as she began to explain again, "Mr Potter, as I just explained to Mr Malfoy, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement has already chosen the partners and it would be inappropriate now to request that he-" "Forget it, Potter, I have already tried." Harry jumped, not aware that Malfoy was still there, witnessing the whole thing. The blonde folded his arms coldly and glared at Harry right in the eyes. "We'll just have to put up with each other." Great. Harry thought, shaking his head angrily. "Thanks for your help." He muttered to the woman behind the desk, snatching up the parchment and heading out past Malfoy, and through the door. Great. He repeated. He was stuck with Malfoy as his partner for a whole year. He would go insane, surely! A year. It wasn't that long, he supposed. If he thought about it, it was only about a total of eleven months, minus Christmas holidays, sick days and vacations, which he would no doubt, need and deserve by the time they came around. Eleven months. That was only about 45 weeks. Which was only around 315 days. Which was only 7560 hours. 453600 minutes of Draco Malfoy. That was all. Harry tried to be optimistic, but the situation was too grim to get any further than beginning to count down the minutes. He would have to spend approximately 453599 minutes alone with Draco Malfoy. Merlin help him.


	2. The Moment When Harry Realised That Despite His Efforts, He Would Always Wind Up Late For Work

The next two weeks consisted of the necessary training required to be completed before assignments were handed out for the year. It was a series of physical and intellectual tests which were to be completed on a yearly basis to confirm that every auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement maintained the skills to commence and complete their assignment well, and to the highest welfare of all the people, muggles and wizards alike involved in each assignment the aurors were sent on. Week one, which was only a series of on-paper tests went quickly for Harry, as he found that much of the material had been in his NEWT tests, which he remembered all too well. After their run-in in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Office, Harry had barely caught a fleeting glimpse of Malfoy all week, and was beginning to wonder if the man had been so low as to fake an illness as to avoid working with Harry. But the moment Harry stepped into the Ministry on Monday, his morning smile faded. Draco Malfoy's face was the first thing he saw when he stepped out of the floo network.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously, taking a step back and brushing the soot off his cloudy blue robes. This was the second time Harry had run into the blonde. Literally. Malfoy crossed his arms tightly and raised one delicate eyebrow in Harry's direction.

"Potter." Harry took a moment to study the blonde's tired face before realising that they were both standing directly in front of the floo fires. Harry frowned.

"Malfoy, are you just going to stand here all day, or is there something you would like to tell me?" Draco scoffed and shook his head.

"Robards sent me a Interdepartmental memo earlier. He presumed that because you always somehow manage to find an excuse to turn up late, you wouldn't have gotten your own yet. So, he told me to pass the message on to you. Training is outdoors today." Harry perked up at the thought of being outside. As much as he loved his job at The Ministry, he got restless when he was cooped up for too long.

"Outdoors?" He questioned lightly. Harry found it strange how the Head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement would contact Draco Malfoy personally. Although it brought back horrible memories of the war, which thankfully, had ended three years ago, Harry couldn't help but picture Draco unveiling his dark mark in Harry's sixth year. Over and over again. The pain Harry had seen in his former-nemesis's eyes that night- that had been real emotion. Real pain. Something Harry had been sure that Draco had been careful to never show before. He must have feelings hidden in there somewhere, Harry thought. It was easy to forget that Malfoy had had a past almost as difficult as Harry's sometimes, especially on Malfoy's particularly irritable days. Harry had gotten used to the thousands of complaints and insults that had been thrown at him by the blonde for the last ten years.

After the war, The Ministry had seised Malfoy Manor, and Malfoy's whole family had been called in for hearing. Harry had stood defence for the Malfoys, only because of what Narcissa had done for Harry during the war. Malfoy and his mother had left The Ministry unscathed, due to their change in beliefs at the very end of the war. Narcissa, nor Draco, Harry was sure, held any particular grudges with Half-Bloods any longer. In fact, Harry was sure that he hadn't heard Malfoy dare utter the word Mudblood since his hearing. Lucius had not been so lucky. Malfoy's father had been sentenced to life in Azkaban after the war, and apparently, from report, had made no attempts to escape.

"Potter." Harry jumped, the words slicing through his thoughts like a heated knife. Harry realised he had been staring at Malfoy, and blinked a few times before looking away.

"Potter, did you hear a word I said?" Harry shook his head and allowed his eyes to wander back to the blonde. "Training is outdoors today. And bring your broomstick." And with that, Malfoy turned on his well-polished heals, and walked away, shaking his head. Despite loosing all his family's dignity after the war, Malfoy still had a sense of entitlement in his stride. Harry shook his head and turned in the opposite direction, heading towards his office. Bring your broomstick. Harry pondered Draco's statement. What could the aurors possibly be doing today that involved broomsticks?

The second Harry set foot into his office, he was swarmed by hundreds of memos and owls, all fighting to reach their recipient first. Harry blinked at his office. Every single surface was covered in paperwork. He had not had a chance to do any of it the past week, being so busy with the academic testing The Ministry had continuously been thrusting at him. Several howlers were on the brink of explosion, and before Harry could reach for any one in particular, a few did. He heard a few shrieks of surprise come from outside his office door, in the hallway and shook his head. He could get reported at this rate.

Deciding that putting off his paperwork for just a while longer wouldn't make that much more of a difference to the damage that it had already caused, Harry stepped over the stacks of paper carefully and over to the corner, where a brand new broom sat. The Broom Shop in Diagon Ally had been sending Harry new brooms free of charge whenever a new model came out since the end of the war, probably in the hope that if they did, Harry would sign up for one of the leading Quidditch teams. As much as Harry did love Quidditch, it was not in his interest to sign up to play professionally. He played a game from time to time with Ron, when they both had a second to breath, but they hadn't done that in nearly four months.

Playing Quidditch made Harry think of Ginny, which lead to him remembering their painful break up after the war. She had told him prior the breakup that she had been offered a place to play for the Holyhead Harpies. At the time, Harry had been thrilled for her.

Harry looked down at the pitiful Galaxy Racer MM which sat in the corner of the room, staring up at him. It had what looked like a rosewood body, with gold curves by the tail to be used as footrests during flight. It had smooth twigs all of the same length lined up to resemble the tail, slightly reminding Harry of an army lined up for battle. It had a sort of chić look to it that Harry knew Malfoy would be proud of. Harry hadn't even tried the broom out yet. No one had, in fact. The broom's official release date wasn't for another six months. Harry hesitated as he reached for the polished wood. He hated showing off, and without a doubt, this broom would draw attention. Pushing the thought aside, he grabbed the Interdepartmental memo with Robards' name on it, and his broom by its neck and marched out of his office, grimacing every time a howler exploded behind him.

The memo said that a port key would be departing at exactly 9am from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Office which would take the aurors directly to their training grounds for the next five days. Harry glanced up at the large clock in the Atrium as he passed through. That was in two minutes. Harry burst into the Office just in time, and took in the scene before him. About thirty, give or take, aurors were all surrounding a walnut-sized gold-coloured sphere with silver wings, each one with a finger on it's surface. A Golden Snitch. Of course. Harry internally muttered. Harry spotted Malfoy on the opposite side of the room, glaring at him, but also looking extremely uncomfortable, sandwiched between Andrew Kirke and Lewis Arnold. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the look on the blonde's face. Placing his finger on the cold, smooth surface of the port key just in time, Harry, and twenty nine other aurors were all swept from the room.


	3. Sharing a Tent With The Pompous Git Who May or May Not Be A Little-But-Not-Really Attractive

The men surrounding Harry all groaned as they hit the ground in a clump. There was a struggle for several minutes as the men tried to dismantle themselves from each other.  
"Oy, Kirke! Get your hand out of my ass!" Mason Kardon snarled, shoving himself from the group.  
"'Et ou're 'oot ou' of m' 'outh, Arnold!" Someone else attempted a shout from somewhere among a clump of limbs, but failed miserably. Several Ows and 'Ay, that's my foot!'s later the men had managed to distangle themselves, and now all stood a reasonable distance away from each other, relishing in their once again attained personal space.  
Harry stood next to Andrew Kirke as he brushed the soil and owl droppings off his robes, now obviously soiled.  
"Perhaps Silverstone should arrange two Port Keys next time." Kirke muttered angrily, using his wand to eliminate a particularly stubborn mark off his pristine white robes. "That way, we wouldn't all end up accidentally dry humping each other." A few agitated aurors away, Chauncey Moorish perked up and called across the group,  
"Why so upset, Kirke? You looked rather like you were enjoying it, if you ask me." Several other men snickered as Kirke shot a well-aimed hex at Moorish.  
Harry joined in the laughing for a moment before noticing the only humourless figure, standing arms crossed at the edge of the group. As Harry approached him, he caught snatches of what Malfoy was muttering to himself. Something about 'immaturity' and 'ridiculousness'. Before he could reach the blonde, a silver form pounced out of the trees and sprinted towards the group. A patronus, clearly a Mountian Lion, stood before the now silent men. Through the patronus, The Head Coordinator of The Auror Department's voice boomed out.  
"Good morning, Aurors. As you know, today is the beginning of the second week of your training before we kick off investigations this year. These woods will be your camping grounds for the next five days." This roused several mutters of disapproval in the group. Silverstone continued,  
"Each team has been assigned one tent. This task is designed to see how well you will work together as a team. Work as a group, and you will succeed. Walk alone, and you will fail." Harry cautioned a glance at Malfoy, who was looking right at him. Harry flushed and turned back to the patronus, which was still speaking.  
"Today, you will build your tents, gather food, and collect wood for the fires. You will definitely need it. No contact is to be made with any other witches or wizards outside the group as of now. This is a drill stake out. Anyone or anything could be watching you at any moment. Anything could attack at any time. You must be on guard at every second of your day. One owl, one patronus, one howler could blow your cover at any instant.  
You all know the necessary practises. You have your brooms, your wands, your tents, and each other. That is all you need. Good day to you all, and good luck." The first person to speak was Lewis Arnold, who threw his arms in the air and sighed.

"Well, looks like we're stuck here. We might as well get started. No point standing around like a bunch of trolls." With that, he turned to face the pile of poles and fabrics that had appeared behind the group. Arnold motioned for his partner, a tall, lanky man whom Harry didn't know too well, and the two of them picked up their tent and walked away, claiming the spot closest to the river. After that, all was chaos.

It was a fight to the death for the best tent, and after a few meek attempts to infiltrate the hustle and bustle around the steadily shrinking pile of tents, Harry just gave up and went to stand by Malfoy, who was already standing on the outside of the group, quietly observing. Arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in his signature expression, Malfoy refused to acknowledge Harry in any way when he approached. Instead, he just continued to stare at the men who slowly began to fan out around the lake. Eventually, everyone had left the pile of tents, which now, was no longer a pile. Harry peered down at the tent below him. By far the smallest, and the oldest. At least it didn't have any holes, Harry figured.  
He heaved the heavy poles into his arms and began to wander away in search of a place to build the tent, whilst also hoping that Malfoy would get the drift and tag along. Help, even. Harry approached an unoccupied spot on the the edge of the camping site and dumped the tent on the ground. He then collapsed on the ground before the sorry pile of rust, crossed his legs, furrowed his brow and began attempting to put the tent together.  
After several minutes of being unsuccessful, Harry lost his temper and glared up at the blonde who had been standing beside him the whole time, mute, watching him fail with an amused look on his face. Harry just wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face.  
"You could help, you know!"  
"You could use magic, you know." Malfoy said sarcastically, imitating Harry's tone. Harry gaped. Why hadn't he thought of that. He suddenly looked around at the now silent camp grounds and saw that the whole camp had been quietly watching him attempt to put together this old tent while Malfoy stood over him and watched too, completely silent. Harry scowled, stood up, not bothering to brush the soil off his robes anymore and cast a spell to fix the tent. There were a few "there you go!" and "Now he's got it"s as the camp returned to their work, a few after swapping a nickel or two. Still scowling, Harry stepped inside the tiny tent.  
Harry had expected it to have an engorgement charm already placed on the inside, just like the Weasley's tent had at the Quidditch World Cup. Instead, he was faced with the same tiny, dirty old walls as the outside of the tent had.  
"Oh no. Oh no no no no. I am not sharing a tent this small with you." Harry states as he pulls his head out of the tent and stares directly at Malfoy. Draco looks up from his fingers, which had been idly fiddling his wand. He raised an eyebrow slowly and stared at Harry.  
"Don't know an engorgement charm for tents, know do you, Potter?" Malfoy taunted, a shimmer of his old self shining through.  
"And I suppose you do?" Harry snapped, anger bubbling already. Not even ten fucking minutes in and he was already reaching to hex the man. This was not going to end well.  
"Unfortunately, no, I do not, Potter. So I suppose I will just have to learn to put up with you." Harry hated how indifferent the blonde sounded.  
"You? Put up with me?" Harry gaped. "You must be confused, Malfoy."  
"Perhaps." The blonde shrugged, and turned in the opposite direction to conjure a sleeping bag, in which he levitated into the tiny tent. Fuming, Harry did the same.  
"I'm going for firewood." Harry announced, grabbing his broom and stomping away from the tent. He could have sworn he heard Malfoy snicker behind him. He really was retched.  
When Harry returned, almost an hour later, Malfoy was no where to be seen when he entered the campsite, so he assumed he was inside the tent. What he could possibly be doing in there was beyond him. Harry dumped the firewood outside and crawled cautiously into the tent, careful of any surprise hexes thrown his way. The blonde was already in his sleeping bag, despite it only being early noon. Malfoy had his arms rapped around himself and was breathing very slowly. Concerned, but cautious, Harry placed a careful hand on the blonde's shoulder.  
"Malfoy?" Harry whispered, peering over the blonde's shoulders. Malfoy was just staring blankly at the wall of the tent, eyes wide open but lifeless. "Malfoy?" Harry repeated again, slightly more panicked this time. The blonde jumped under Harry's hand and Harry saw him blink in confusion. The blonde looked up at Harry, first in shock, and then in disgust.  
"What the hell are you doing, Potter?" Malfoy propelled himself away from Harry, and Harry's hand was now clenched around thin air. Relieved, but hurt, Harry withdrew his hand.  
"Checking to see if my auror partner is still alive, if that's okay with you." Harry snapped before exiting the tent. That was the strangest he had ever seen Malfoy act. He had almost been in a trance, and then he just suddenly snapped out of it and went back to his usual self. Harry reminded himself to look out for any more little moments like that with Draco.  
The men spent the rest of the day finding wild pumpkins and preparing rations for the rest of the week. When night finally rolled around, they bid each other ado, surrounded themselves in several concealment charms and entered their tents for the night. Malfoy had spent the day mute, inside the tent whenever Harry wasn't, and elsewhere, observing the other teams when Harry was. But when night had finally rolled around, he couldn't avoid Harry any longer. Harry crawled into the tight space and looked at Malfoy, you had been sat, staring blankly at a book of which he had summoned several hours ago and taken to resorting to whenever Harry approached him since then. He looked up and met Harry's eyes.  
"Who's taking first shift?" Malfoy asked, eyes dull. Not bored, but slightly irritated. Stressed, Harry decided.  
"Shift?" Harry echoed Malfoy's words.  
"Shift, Potter." Malfoy said, glaring at him. "Someone has to keep watch. It's a stake out." Harry blinked. Of course.  
"Oh, right. Of course. I don't really care." Malfoy shrugged and crawled towards the exit.  
"I will then." Malfoy settled in the doorway with his book cradled in his lap and his wand in his right hand, a lumos burning at the tip, which Harry had been sure was much brighter a few moments ago. Shaking his head, Harry slid into his sleeping bag and squeezed his eyes shut. If he could pretend this was just all a bad dream, maybe he would wake up and it really would just be all a dream. Eventually, he fell asleep.


	4. A Strange And Out of No-where Offer to Help By the Ridiculously Irksome And Irritably Charital Nitwit Who Lived

"Potter." Harry stirred, not wanting to loose his dream. "Potter!" An ice cold voice sliced through the images playing before his eyelids and Harry woke with a start, propelling himself forwards and hitting something hard with his head. He peeled open his eyes grunting in pain and clutching his forehead. Malfoy propelled himself backwards, swearing violently. Harry frowned.  
"Malfoy?" Malfoy looked up, rubbing and clutching his forehead, mirroring Harry.  
"It's your turn to keep watch." He said cooly, and Harry nodded and extracted himself from his sleeping bag, which had been twisted around his ankles uncomfortably. Malfoy slid into his own sleeping bag, rolled onto his side and clamped his jaw shut, without another word to Harry.

The brunette made his way to the tent's entrance, which would have been less than a foot from Malfoy's feet, and sat down. He studied the empty campsite for a few minutes before growing bored. He decided to tempt fate and glance at Malfoy. The blond still lay on his side, arms wrapped around himself and eyes staring firmly at the wall of the tent. Harry panicked.  
"Malfoy?" The blond glanced at him.  
"What now, Potter?" Harry heaved a sigh of relief, remembering with distaste what had happened to Malfoy before.  
"Just checking." Malfoy eyed him warily before pushing himself up into a sitting position, looking at the confused brunette.  
"I can't sleep." He concluded briefly, before staring at the ground. Harry gave in, eventually attempting to strike up conversation, just in the hope to end the awkward silence.  
"I can't believe we have to spend the week here." Harry said, attempting to find something to relate to Draco with. Grey eyes flickered up to meet emerald green briefly before glancing down again.  
"I can't imagine how horrible it must be for you." The comment was dripping with sarcasm and Harry felt a pang of hurt strike him. Harry went back to watching the campsite, and when he got bored he glanced down at the watch on his wrist, reading 3:04am. He glanced out of the tent again, expecting to find the once again empty night, but was suddenly intrigued by something approaching in the distance, high in the sky. It appeared to be black, and apparently able to fly.

"What Potter, seen a ghost?" Malfoy spat, amused at the look of horror on Harry's face.  
"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry whispered, trying to focus his eyes closer on the approaching figure in the sky. He squinted.  
"Excuse me? Don't you tell me to shut up, Potter. You just think you're so great, don't you, Potter? With your stupid glasses and your stupid broomstick and your stupid-" Harry reached and clamped a hand over Malfoy's mouth, suddenly realising that it probably wasn't a good idea to draw this creatures attention to them.  
"I said shut up!" Malfoy roared in outrage, tearing Harry's hand from his face and pushing out of his sleeping bag and past Harry through the doorway. "Malfoy, don't go out there!" Harry warned, making to grab the blond.  
"Oh so you're going to tell me what to do now as well, Potter?" Malfoy's eyes were glinting with rage but Harry could feel fear pressing down on his own chest. He glanced at the creature, which had almost reached the campsite now. Harry realised just as others joined it what the creatures were that were now swarming towards them. Dementors. Malfoy turned at the sudden cool breeze and froze at the sight of the robed creatures gliding towards them. The blond began to shake, eyes clouding as a dementor closed in, cradleling his face. Malfoy's blonde hair shined in the moonlight as his knees grew weak and his soul was sucked out through his mouth. Harry pushed himself up as fast as his legs would allow, sprinting towards Malfoy, who was now providing a feast for the dozen black creatures surrounding the campsite. He saw lights flicker on in the corner of his eye and prayed that the others would hurry. Just as another dementor swooped towards the paralysed blond Harry reached him, tackling the lithe form to the ground, and pushing him away. Malfoy's head hit the dirt harder than Harry would have preferred. He turned to the dementors now closing in on him, also. He lifted his wand and thought of his happiest memory. A stag so bright it was white shot from the tip of his wand, scattering the dementors. Harry heard the sound of feet approaching on gravel as his head exploded in sudden fatigue. His hearing was muffled as he turned to look down at Malfoy, who was sprawled on the ground, even paler than usual, tears still wet and fresh on his cheeks and unconscious. Harry's vision blurred and his knees gave way, and just as his head hit the ground, everything went black.

A few metres away two Aurors exchanged five pounds.

~

Harry woke with a horrible throb in his head, and was ashamed to admit to himself that the first word he uttered when he entered consciousness was 'Malfoy'. Kirke stood over him, hands on his hips and blue eyes worried.  
"He lives!" He shouted and the sarcastic comment was rewarded with a few cheers.

Kirke held out a hand to Harry, and after a moment of hesitation, he took it.  
"So now you're the Boy Who Lived Twice now, hey Harry?" Kirke teased as Harry stood and rubbed his head, eyes throbbing.  
"Malfoy." Harry said, almost subconsciously, seemingly unaware of what he had muttered. "Where's Malfoy?" He repeated suddenly, looking at Kirke in urgency. Harry looked around the campsite, noting that it was light now, and that sunrise must have been several hours ago. He dashed for the tent and when he tore it open, grey eyes reluctantly met his.

"Hey." Harry started lamely, sitting down at the end of the tent, pulling his knees to his chest. Malfoy glared at him, which shouldn't have really surprised Harry as much as it did.  
"So..." Malfoy glanced at Harry before looking back down at his page, which Harry noted was the exact same one he had been reading the night before. Seems like Malfoy had something on his mind. It wasn't like him to not be punctual. "Guess you can't conjure a patronus." Malfoy looked up into Harry's green eyes and shook his head slightly.

"I never could, Potter. I didn't have special tutoring like you." Harry blinked at the statement, wondering what it meant.  
"If you like... I can teach you. You're going to need it the next five days." Malfoy hesitated for a moment, and Harry could see the conflict in his eyes. He could almost read the thoughts running through the blond's head. He didn't need Potter of all people to teach him how to do something. He could teach himself. Then again, Potter had saved his life the previous night.

Harry watched as Malfoy bit his lip in concentration.  
"Fine, Potter. I appreciate the offer. Meet me in the woods at noon." And with that, Malfoy crawled past Harry and out of the tent, walking out past the rest of the tents. Harry sighed. -This would be interesting.


	5. The Likely-a-little-rude Event That Made Harry Potter Laugh More Than His Auror Partner Probably Would Have Apreciated

Noon surprised Harry and crept up on him, and to his disapproval, he realised that his quick morning walk had turned into an entire hiking trip. Harry stood on the opposite side of the lake to the campsite, observing it, and watching the tiny specs that were people wander around.

Two aurors were racing up and down the banks on brooms, and two others were playing an apparently extremely eventful game of Exploding Snap, considering here was a rather loud explosion every few minutes. Harry noted to himself to suggest putting concealment charms over the whole camp when he got back, to make their presence a little less obvious. Harry glanced at his watch- it was 12:07, which meant it was noon. That also meant he was late to meet Malfoy. The blond was going to be a pissed, Harry thought as he hurried his way back to camp.

He stopped with a shock when he ran into a thin frame, stumbling backwards with a shout. He reached for his wand but before he could even get his hand in his pocket, a stinging hex flew past his left ear. Harry looked up in surprise. Blond hair, tall but thin frame, and a scowling face.   
"An ill aimed shot, Malfoy." Malfoy snorted and lowered his wand.   
"Says the man who can't even get his own wand out in time." Harry accepted the jab. The blond did have a point.

"Late as usual, Potter." Malfoy chastised, frowning and looking Harry up and down. The brunette, suddenly self conscious, ran a hand through his hair, tugging his lip in between his teeth. "Might as well do it here, Potter, seems you've already wasted enough time." Harry snapped out of his haze in shock.   
"Do what, Malfoy?" Harry's eyes were wide, as wild, forbidden images flew through his mind.   
"You said you were going to teach me how to achieve a patronus, Potter?" Harry's mind cleared in understanding, and relief flushed through him.   
"Ah. Of course. Yes. Okay." Malfoy glanced at Harry's pink cheeks, but moved on, steadying his wand hand.

"So? How does this work Potter?" Harry stopped to think for a moment, cheeks burning. He hadn't thought about how he would explain the concept to Malfoy. It was quite delicate, and even though Malfoy was undoubtably delicate, Harry wasn't sure how easily the blond would be able to grasp it.   
"Um..." Harry glanced around him for inspiration. "Okay. Malfoy I want you to sit down." A shimmer of surprise shine through grey eyes before that mouth opened again.   
"Sit, Potter? On the floor?" Harry took a deep breath. He was right about this going to be interesting.  
"Yes, Malfoy. On the floor." The blond looked like he was going to argue for a moment more, before slowing swiping blond bangs out of grey eyes and lowering himself to the ground. Harry sat down on his knees too, several metres away.

"Okay," He said, trying to make his voice calm and relaxing. "Now I want you to close your eyes." Malfoy glanced at Harry for a moment, before snapping,  
"Are you bullshitting me, because so help me Potter if you are-" Harry shook his head calmly. Malfoy stopped and slowly turned his head away, eyelids eventually sliding shut.   
"Now, picture your happiest memory." Malfoy's eyes flickered open and looked at Harry.   
"Does it have to be a memory?" He asked quietly. Harry shook his head, fumbling with his wand.   
"It's not for me, so I guess not." Malfoy turned back and shut his eyes once again.

"And now I want you to see that image in your mind. Only that image. And then, you're going to say Expecto Patronum." Harry noticed Malfoy's brow furrow slightly. "Okay?" The blond didn't reply, so Harry took it as a yes. They sat like that, silent for a few minutes until Harry began to wonder if perhaps Malfoy had fallen asleep until the blond muttered,  
"I can't think of one. A memory." Harry felt a pang of guilt for the man, and inched a tiny bit closer.   
"So make one up." He stared, and watched as Malfoy's face was contorted in concentration.

Grey eyes opened and met closer green ones. "Potter are you sure this is completely necessary for the spell?" He asked, and Harry nodded.  
"It's compulsory if you want to achieve anything." The blond huffed and returned to his thoughts.

Several minutes later, Harry jumped when Malfoy moved, lifting his wand which had been sitting loosely in between his fingers for the last half hour and waving it gently. He whispered,   
"Expecto Patronum." Harry glanced at Malfoy who was staring with a dissatisfied look on his face into the empty air.

"It's okay," Harry spoke gently. "It takes some time. Try to think a happier thought." Malfoy took a deep breath and shut his eyes again. Harry watched the blond as he visibly sorted through his mind to find a thought happy enough. Harry watched as the blond apparently found one, and pale lips tilted upwards ever so slightly. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was already sitting down, Harry probably would have fallen to the ground in shock. Was Malfoy... smiling? Harry watched, enchanted as the blond slowly lifted his wand and whispered the spell. Harry broke from his trance long enough to glance where Malfoy's wand was pointed and then back at a frustrated face, contorted in rage. 

"Potter, this is ridiculous." Malfoy went to stand, but Harry grabbed his wrist, tugging him back down. Malfoy stared at his arm in horror, as if Harry hadn't grabbed it, but chopped it off. The blond shook himself visibly and turned back to Harry. "Potter. There's no point. I couldn't do it in school. I can't do it now." Harry sighed and squared his shoulders.

"No. We're going to get this done." Harry pushed himself closer to Malfoy, so close that their shoulders were brushing. Malfoy reeled.

"What are you doing, Potter?" 

"Just relax." Malfoy was still visibly tense, but he eventually shut his eyes. Harry watched as the memory came back. When the blond's mouth was tipped upwards again, Harry gently reached out, and took the blond's wand hand in his palm, and held it up. Malfoy jumped, but said nothing. 

"On three." Harry murmured. He recalled the wave pattern and held Draco's hand up for him.

"One." Harry glanced at Draco's lips, which were still in a tiny smile. They were a pale pink, soft, and lush. Harry agreed with himself that they looked even more spectacular when Draco was smiling. 

"Two." Harry felt Draco take a deep breath besides him, eyelids fluttering. Harry watched but they stayed shut in concentration, a tiny line between his dainty eyebrows making it obvious he could still she the memory.

"Three." Harry whispered, focusing back on Draco's hand, where he followed it in the movement. Harry felt Draco whisper the spell next to him, his breath tickling his cheek. The blond opened his eyes and stared into the air, just as Harry did, spotting a silver form pouncing through the trees back and forth. Harry glanced at Malfoy, watching his eyes light in excitement. 

"What is it?" Harry squinted through the trees, watching Draco's patronus pounce back towards them. It had a small head, short legs and a long tail. And it was quite long. Hold on... 

Harry almost stopped breathing when he realised what Malfoy's patronus was. He bent over, his laughter so uncontrollable he was heaving in gulps of air probably large enough to supply for an entire settlement on Mars. Malfoy glanced at Harry in horror, and then back at the white creature that had just bounced out of the trees and towards him. Harry had just gotten a hold of himself before he glanced at the look of rage on Malfoy's face and began heaving again, tears running down his cheeks in laughter. Draco Malfoy's patronus... was a ferret. The silver animal eventually evaporated, and minutes later Harry was still heaving with laughter. He was actually beginning to feel a little sick from laughing so hard. "Potter." The way Malfoy said his name; with so much dignity and pride just made Harry laugh harder. "Potter." Harry barely heard the second time, his ears filled with the thoughts screaming at him how ridiculous this situation was. He was in mid-heave when he felt a stinging hex whack him in the chest. He jumped, and stared up at Mafloy, who had his arms crossed in an extremely Malfoy expression. 

"Laugh once more. I dare you." The blond spat. Harry pulled himself up off the floor, offering a hand to Malfoy, who ignored the gesture and helped himself. They stood in silence for a moment before Harry spoke first. 

"Congratulations." The blond glared at him, eyes narrowed. The memory of the ferret pouncing around Malfoy's ears pushed itself back into Harry's mind and he bit his tongue, preventing him from starting to laugh again, but his smile was evident. Malfoy rolled his eyes bitterly. 

"I appreciate your help, Potter, although I have to say, the outcome left much to be desired." Harry snorted, and covered his mouth in horror. He didn't fancy another stinging hex. 

"Any time, Malfoy." He managed. Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry watched the blond think.

"Can the patronus's form change?" Harry thought for a moment, remembering Tonks, and even Snape. Flashes of the war flew back to him, accompanied by gruesome images of blood and flesh, broken bones and necks. Harry swallowed, pushing the thoughts away.

"Yes." Malfoy frowned and unfolded his arms. 

"Thank you once again, Potter, for the assistance." Harry watched as the blond turned and began walking back towards camp. Harry waited a few moments, to make sure Malfoy was out of ear shot before bending over once again, chest heaving, tears in his eyes. A ferret.


	6. The Badly-made Decision To Do Something Likely Stupid, That If He Hadn't Ever Met That Annoyingly Gorgeous Git He Would Never Have Even Imagined Himself Doing In The First Place.

The next few days past by uneventfully, and the aurors, although bored, began to grow suspicious that Silverstone was planning something horrific. The aurors had since put up concealment charms, agreeing that it would be better to try to best conceal themselves if Silverstone was sending any more attacks. Draco hadn't had a chance to use his patronus against a Domentor yet, as there had only been one more attack the previous night, and Kirke had banished the creature before Harry could even see it approaching. Harry doubted Malfoy would really want to use his patronus in front of the other aurors anyway; he'd get the shit pulled out of him for the rest of his life. Harry thought for a moment. Hold on; this was Malfoy. If anyone dared utter a word against him, they would closely resemble a pile of mush within a minute. Every auror in the campsite new that. It was clear through the way they avoided him. 

 

Harry spent most of his time in the tent, when Malfoy wasn't, and when he was, Harry would go find another auror to challenge to a broom race around the river. Entertainment was lacking, and communication with the outside was forbidden. So far, this stakeout was proving unsuccessful. No one even knew what they were looking for. Harry was currently engrossed in a very serious game of Wizard's Chess with Moorish, and so far, was loosing miserably. In the corner of his eye, Harry watched Mason Kardon saunter over to their make-shift table. The auror watched for a moment, before beginning to talk.

"Harry. Moorish." He nodded in both wizard's directions. "The boys, Arnold and all were thinking about taking a dip. We all smell pretty bad; no offence, guys. Anyways, we were wondering if you guys wanted to join us." Both Harry and Chauncey looked up. Chauncey was the first to talk.

"Like... skinny dipping?" Kardon nodded, leaning back against the tree that they had propped their table up against.

"Aren't we a little... I don't know, old for that, Kardon?" Harry said, running a hand through his hair. Kardon rolled his eyes, glancing behind him at the lake.

"Harry, mate; listen. If you think 24 is too old to do stupid shit, then Malfoy's obviously hexed you with one too many bat-bogey hexes, and somehow, they've made their way into your brain." Harry crossed his arms, suddenly defensive towards Kardon. He shouldn't have insulted Draco. The man wasn't even here to defend himself. He'd spent the entire day in the tent. Harry grinned.

"Sure, Kardon. We accept. On one condition." Kardon grinned.

"Anything, Haz." Harry glanced at Chauncey who grinned back at him.

~

Two hours later, Harry stuck his head into the tent, catching sight of the blonde, who was hidden beneath his sleeping bag and reading. He grinned. The blond looked up at him and frowned.

"Potter, I know it's difficult for you to control your facial features all the time, but please, do gain some composure and wipe that ridiculous grin off your face." Harry just grinned wider.

"No." He responded. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "We're all going swimming in ten minutes, and you're coming." Malfoy snorted in arrogance.

"When hell freezes over, Potter." The blond stared at his nails. Harry grinned.

"Don't make me hex you, Malfoy." The blond looked up, eyes flickering to the wand in Harry's hand, held loosely, but ready. Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

"You wouldn't." Harry fiddled with his wand. He glanced up at Malfoy's sneer.

"I think an Instant Scalping Hex would look nice on you, Malfoy." The blond reached up and touched his hair in horror. The blond was clearly cautious, but still ridiculously stubborn.

"Don't you dare, Potter. You touch my hair; I'll hex you to tomorrow." Harry pointed his wand lazily at the blond. Grey eyes widened further when Harry began the incantation. The blond rushed his next words;

"Fine, Potter. You win." The blond crawled out of his sleeping bag and towards the exit. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Leave the book, Malfoy." The blond carefully marked the page, and then left the tent, muttering to himself about indecency, and how he should file a law suit. Harry followed closely behind, catching words such as,

"Stupid Potter. With his stupid scar. And his stupid wand. And his stupid hair. And his stupid hexes." It took all Harry had not to start laughing again. They reached the lake just as the sun had settled into the hills. Chauncey and Arnold had set up a bonfire on the beach, which was alight, and burning brightly. Kardon stood a few metres away, watching them silently. When he spotted Harry approaching the with Malfoy in tow, he spoke,

"Harry, is this seriously necessary?" Harry grinned.

"We made a deal, Kardon. You can't break wizarding deals." Which was true; if a wizard broke a deal with another wizard, they would suffer. It's not necessarily specified just how much suffering is involved, because no wizard has been stupid enough to break a wizarding deal. And it was clear that Kardon wasn't going to let himself be the first to find out. The men stood around the campfire, watching as the obnoxious man reluctantly pulled off his shoes, and then the remainder of his clothing, until he was just left in his underwear, which was adorned by many golden snitches, flying around in the image on the fabric. Many of the aurors hooted, catcalled, and Harry heard Chauncey shout,

"Nice snitch, Kardon!" The man glared back at them. Harry grinned.

"Everything, Kardon; It's skinny dipping." The man glared at Harry with heat so close to a Malfoy glare, Harry would have been proud to achieve such an expression. He dropped his golden snitch boxers to the ground, resulting in many catcalls, and 'Nice ass's.

"Give us a little twirl!" Someone shouted, and the lake erupted in howels of laughter as the naked man turned to face them. Harry glanced at Malfoy, who had sat down on the banks and was blushing furiously. That made Harry laugh out loud. He turned back to watch Kardon step into the freezing lake, completely naked, while his entire auror team watched onwards. Harry laughed as one of the men shouted,

"Feeling a little excited, Kardon?" The naked man flipped the middle finger backwards, shouting in anger.

"It's so fucking cold, I might as well fucking be in fucking Antarctica!" The men cheered and Harry grinned, proud that he had supplied some entertainment, as devious as it was. It had been getting too quiet around the camp, and he had been worried that the team were starting to lower their guards. Once Kardon was fully in the water, and swearing a very colourful variety of words, the other men began stripping too. Harry glanced at Malfoy, who was apparently trying very hard to look anywhere but the beach. Harry chuckled and trudged through the sand, sitting down next to the blond.

"I didn't make you come so you could just sit here." Malfoy glanced at him, glaring so fiercely Harry thought he might burn a hole through his face.

"I refuse to participate in such a pointless activity, that you are your ridiculous friends deem 'fun'. It is simply preposterous." Harry chuckled at Malfoy's certainty. He shrugged, and presumed that he should be grateful that he was lucky enough just to get the blond out of their tent.

"Okay, but if you change your mind, then you're welcome to join us." He added a wink just for good measure. The blonde scoffed.

"I highly doubt that, Potter." Harry shrugged once again, and turned to face the water, beginning to undo his belt buckle. He heard Malfoy take a sharp breath of air, behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing, Potter?" The blond asked urgently. Harry grinned back at him.

"I'm going for a swim." He stated simply, dropping his jeans and boxers, leaving his bare ass for the world to gaze upon, including the horrified gaze of the one and only- Draco Malfoy. He pulled his shirt over his head, rid himself of his glasses, and began treading lightly across the sand and towards the water. He heard a few cheers from the water when the aurors spotted him coming towards them. He grinned as the cool water washed over his feet. Once deep enough, he dived in, resurfacing and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, and eyes on every part of him, and for the first time in as long as he could remember; he felt alive. The evening grew older as the men engaged in several modified, and slightly horrific games, including Marco Polo, and an extremely creative Sandcastle building competition which may or may not have included an extremely artistic sculpture of something none of the men their would admit to having seen to anyone else outside the camp that night. Harry soaked until his toes and fingers were numb and shrivelled, and he rejoiced in the ability to feel numb for once. It suddenly hit him how tired he was. He hadn't stopped in weeks; with work, and social events for the ministry, and hundreds of thousands of interviews for The Prophet, and even the odd advertisement for George at the Joke Shop if he needed the favour. Harry barely noticed the movement on the shore.

At the sound of a shouted curse, Harry pulled himself from the water in shock, slipping and choking up some lake water. He shivered. Gross. He stared back at the shore, which was almost invisible in the darkness now, besides the bonfire, which had slowly began to burn out about a half hour ago. He spotted a person moving along the shore, closer to the trees, followed by something that looked almost like a dark mass. Harry squinted. What the fuck? Propelling himself out of the water, shouting at the others, who were a few yards away, deeper in, to stop the games. He realised as he was only a few metres from the shoreline that his wand was on the other end of the beach. He stared in horror, and decided to keep running.

"Accio!" He shouted, and was greeted with the warm feeling of his wand in his hand. He finally made it up the beach and was close enough to see what was going on. Draco was stumbling backwards, scrambling for his wand, while a dark mass was closing in on him. Harry was merely a good six metres away from the attack, noticing that Malfoy hadn't even noticed him approaching him, preoccupied with finding his wand. The blond tripped on a root, and landed backwards, eyes wide and hands trapped beneath him. Harry watched in horror as the mass above Draco began to shift and change, having finally decided. Harry stared, frozen, as an exact replica of himself, plus clothes, stood before Malfoy, seething. He watched as his doppelganger closed in on Draco, and began to shout at the blond, who was paralysed in fear, grey eyes watering.

"Fuck you, Malfoy. You think I'd ever be with you? You're just a fucking useless faggot!" Harry was frozen, watching as the abuse unfolded, unable to move, or form a coherent thought. He glanced at Malfoy, who now had tears streaming down his face, big grey eyes full of hurt and fear. "You're a Death Eater, Malfoy! Your stupid excuse about not being one anymore is useless. We all know the truth!" Harry's double gestured around. "We all know who you really are. We all know that on the inside, you really are evil." Malfoy shook his head weakly, clearly a feeble attempt to argue. "You're pathetic, Malfoy. No one will ever love you. No one. Including me." Harry jumped back as a curse shot past his right ear and hit his double, causing it to shiver, and shrink to the ground, disappearing among the sand. Moorish came running up behind Harry, eyes wild and wand drawn.

"What the fuck was that?" He asked, glancing from a petrified Malfoy to a still very naked Harry.

"Boggart." Harry breathed in shock, his head spinning. What just happened? Moorish turned back to Malfoy, and Harry followed his gaze.

"You okay, Mal-" Moorish stopped. "Where'd he go?" Harry blinked. The blond had picked himself up and began to run back to the campsite. Harry glanced at the crowd that had formed now, over a good fraction of the spectators still stark naked.

"It's fine. I'll go check it out." Harry reassured, summoning his clothes and dressing quickly, shaking his hair as his ran back towards the campsite. He lowered himself to his knees and carefully crawled into their tent, cautious of any angry hexes irrationally thrown his way. He glanced up and saw the tiniest amount of blonde hair sticking out from the top of a shaking sleeping bag. He sat down next to the man, watching for a moment before deciding to speak.

"Malfoy?" He heard the blond whimper in fear, and he gently placed a hand on what he thought was the man's shoulder. "Malfoy, it's me. It's fine. You're safe." He watched as the sobbing intensified. "What just happened?" He heard Malfoy gulp down a lung full of air. A surprisingly cool voice came floating out of the sleeping bag, but the angry effect was diminished when Malfoy's voice cracked on the last word.

"Just fuck off, Potter. You don't care about me, so stop pretending you do." Harry reeled in horror. He'd never seen a boggart have such an effect on someone. He began moving his hand in what he hoped was a calming pattern.

"Listen, Malfoy, it's okay. I promise. I'm not going to hurt you." The blond issued a whimper. Harry sighed. "Draco, it's okay. It was just a boggart." He pulled his hand away as the sleeping bag started to move, and a blonde head popped out, eyes red and bloodshot and face saturated with tears. He looked at Harry in shock. Harry frowned, confused. "A boggart. You know; we looked at them in third grade-" The blonde snapped.

"I know what a boggart is, Potter." Harry shut his mouth with a click, biting his tongue. "It's just... That's the first time you've ever used my first name." Understanding dawned on Harry, and he nodded gently. He looked down at the tent floor.

"I'm sorry about what happened back there. I'd never say those things." Draco wrapped his arms around himself and looked down also.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He whispered after a moment of contemplation.

"It wasn't your fault." The two men sat in silence for what could have been hours or seconds before Malfoy looked up at Harry, met his eyes, and said,

"Goodnight, Harry." He then slipped into his sleeping bag, wrapped his arms around himself and shut his eyes, the occasional tear escaping. Harry wanted to do something; comfort the blond, but he had been dismissed. He couldn't think of anything to say or do that would make up for what the man just witnessed. So, Harry lay down next to him, hair still sopping wet, shivering, but not wanting to make too much movement by getting into his sleeping bag, and shut his eyes, wand clutched in his hand. The last thought he had before he fell to sleep, was why on earth would his arch nemesis's boggart, be Harry rejecting him?


	7. That Bloody Boggart That Was Bound To Send Him Spiralling Into A Long Depressive Period Full Of Humiliation And A Rather New Draco Malfoy

Harry was startled awake by the sound of movement besides him. He peeled open his eyes and glanced over to the person in the sleeping bag besides him. Draco rolled over, emerald green meeting emerald green. Harry reeled, eyes wide as he saw himself before him; his doppelgänger.  
"Go away!" He shouted, scrambling for the tent zip. He couldn't seem to move fast enough. Where was Draco? What was this horrible creature doing in their tent? Harry fumbled with the zip as he watched his twin grin at him evilly.  
"You thought you got away." Harry's other grinned, eyes sickly and evil. Harry kicked his legs, all thoughts of his wand forgotten. His foot made contact with the doubles face and for a short satisfying moment it looked like Harry had done some damage, but then his double glared back at him, and to Harry's horror, an identical hand to his own wrapped its way around his foot.  
"Stop!" He shouted, trying to wrestle free and yanking at the zip, which was stuck at the top of the tracks. "Fuck off!" He twisted and pulled as his double continued its assault on him.

"You know, Harry. You know it's true." Harry shook his head in fear, tears welling up in his eyes.  
"NO!" He roared, tugging on the zip to the tent so violently he wouldn't be surprised if the whole tent fell down soon. Why weren't the others coming? Couldn't they hear him?  
"Don't try and deny it, Harry. You'd never date the faggot. Your ego is too big for that. -You're Harry Potter. You deserve better than that."  
"STOP IT!" He shrieked, flailing pointlessly.  
"You saw it, didn't you? He fancies you, Harry. Why would he fancy you? You're pathetic. He'd never love you. You hurt him." Harry was weeping now, vision almost completely gone as a contributed fact that his glasses had gotten crushed beneath him. His double twisted his ankle painfully, pulling him towards him.

"Draco trusts you, and all you're going to do is hurt him. Just like you hurt everyone."

Harry tore from his sleep with a roaring "NO!!" Heart beating painfully hard against his chest, eyes wide and teary, and face drenched from tears. Before he could gain his composure he noticed something move next to him from his sudden burst of movement, and Harry threw himself backwards. A pale face peered at him through sleeping eyes, delicate fingers rubbing the sleep away.  
"Harry?" Draco blinked at him, eyes blurry as Harry panted before him, eyes wide and frightened. Harry mentally shook himself. It had been a dream. None of that stuff had happened. None of the stuff on the beach, or in the tent or anywhere else. He'd dreamed it. Wait... Harry?

"Harry. Harry." Harry looked up at the blond man sitting before him, arms wrapped around himself, eyelids half shut from sleep. He took a deep breath to calm himself and then spoke, looking at the startled blond before him.  
"Sorry, Malfoy. Bad dream." The blond frowned.  
"I thought we were on a first-name-basis now..." Harry gulped. He didn't want to ask what had actually happened, and what part of it he had just dreamt, but he had a reasonably good idea, so he let it be.  
"Sorry. Draco." The name was unfamiliar to his tongue, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you..." Harry watched the blond hesitate. "Do you want to talk about it?" Harry blinked.  
"About what?" Draco sighed.  
"The dream, Potter."  
"I thought we were on a first-name-basis now?" Harry grinned. He was rewarded with a tiny smirk on pale lips.  
"Don't be a smartass Potter, it doesn't suit you."  
"Harry."  
"Harry." Draco corrected. Harry sighed.

"No, thanks anyway." He paused for a moment. "I just can't stop thinking about that bogart." He saw Draco shift when he said this, eyes floating towards the ground.  
"I really am sorry you had to see that." Harry glanced up.  
"It's a fear, Draco. Not a reality." The blond sighed.  
"Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference." Harry watched silver eyes cloud over, and the blond grow visibly smaller.

"Hey... it's okay. Nothing that bogart said was true. You seem alright. And you can be pretty funny sometimes." Harry watched as a tiny smirk played on the albino's lips.  
"'Pretty funny', Potter?" The blond glanced up. "That's the best you can do?" Harry grinned.  
"No, actually." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I like your eyes." This caught Draco off guard, Harry thought, as he watched the blond frown momentarily. "They're beautiful. Like a storm. Like winter. They remind me that even the darkest things can be beautiful." Harry watched as the blond took this all in.  
"...Thank you." Harry grinned.  
"I like your hair too. But I think it would look better spiked up." Draco glanced up and glared at him.  
"Not everyone enjoys having a rediculous mop of shit for a head, Potter." Harry shrugged.  
"Thanks for the compliment."  
"Don't mention it." The blond countered.

Harry sat and observed the way the moon slipped through the tiny holes in their ancient tent and the light danced on Draco's face, swaying and lighting up his features. Harry's eyes traced blond hair, pale skin, a long nose, dark lashes and full lips. He blushed furiously when he caught himself.

Harry scratched his nose; a nervous habit, and wiped the drying tears from his cheeks and pulling himself into a proper sitting position. Draco did the same.

"What time is it?" Draco asked. Harry glanced down at his watch.  
"Three in the morning." Draco shrugged and began pushing his hair out of his eyes, an attempt to style it into a more Malfoy-like fashion.  
"Don't." Harry said, reaching out and gently holding the blond's wrist. "I like it like that." Harry realised he was gripping the mans arm quite tightly and willed himself to let go, putting some distance between them again.

"Fine." Draco said, leaning back on his hands. Harry watched his slender figure move as the blond commanded it to. Muscles flexing. Harry fiddled with his fingers for a few moments, glancing at Draco every now and then.  
"What have you been reading?" Harry asked, noticing the corner of Draco's book poking out from beneath the blankets- the same one he'd been reading for a while. Harry watched in shock as a light shade of pink dusted the pale man's cheeks. Was Draco Malfoy... blushing?  
"Actually, I'm not reading. I'm writing." Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Lets see, then." He held his hand out expectingly. Grey eyes grew wide in shock.  
"No way, Potter. I don't share." Harry muttered an irritated summoning spell and the book flew out from beneath the sheets.  
"Hey! Potter give that back! It's personal." The blond made a grab for the small leather bounded book and missed it by a long shot, hand closing over empty air.

"Harry, so help me-" Harry gasped, eyes tracing the delicate cursive that was scrawled across the pages.  
"Draco, you're... incredible. You're insanely good." He looked up, watching as the blond began blushing furiously once again, ears tinged red. "Does anyone else know about this?" A blond head shook gently, locks bouncing ever so slightly.

"You're incredible." Harry flipped though the book, stopping on a particular poem titled 'Green Eyes'. He glanced up to meet worried grey ones. Harry lifted his chin and snapped the book shut, cheeks burning. He couldn't do this. Reading those words would be like reading Draco's soul. He couldn't do that without permission. He offered the book back, and the blond took it tentatively, and then stashed it underneath his pillow.

"Okay, my turn." He said, turning back to Harry. "Tell me something personal." Harry thought for a moment.  
"How personal?" He asked carefully. The blond gestured to the slight lump in his pillowcase now.  
"That personal." Harry's brows drew together into a line, forehead wrinkled in thought.  
"I don't know... Ask me something." The blond shrugged.  
"Strawberry or chocolate ice cream?"  
"Chocolate." Harry scoffed. "I'm not stupid."  
"I didn't know preference in ice cream flavour was related to intelligence." Harry faux glared at the blond.  
"Ha ha." He said humorously, but the effect was shattered by the uncontrollable grin on his face. "Okay... day or night?" The blond glanced out of the tent.  
"Night." He said firmly. "Even though it scares me, night is also the only place I feel safe." Harry frowned. "I know; it makes no sense. -I'm afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows, but I know that it's not going to be a person- everyone is asleep. I can be alone, and myself. Even if it means being scared."

"...Wow." Harry glanced down at his clasped hands. He could never come up with an answer that creative. "I'm gay." The moment he said it Harry's heart sped up to an almost ridiculously fast speed. Even he didn't know where that statement had come from. What would Draco think? Would he hate him? Would he think he's messed up? Harry returned the blond's blank stare, watching as he finally blinked once, as if an attempt to comprehend what he just heard. 

"What?" He asked blindly, eyes staring at Harry, obviously beyond confusion. 

"I'm... gay." He repeated, cheeks on fire and eyes watering from the embarrassment. That's what happens to him when he's embarrassed. His eyes feel like they're going to betray him and start pouring out tears, bucketloads at a time. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that-" Malfoy shook his head.

"No, it's fine. I appreciate your honesty." The blond paused for a moment, as if considering his decision a second time. "I'm gay too." Harry felt his mouth fall open, hitting the floor with a metaphorical thud. Draco was... gay? Harry suddenly realised that the bogart should have been a pretty good indicator. Merlin, he was thick. Malfoy's biggest fear was rejection. From someone he loves. Harry stared at the expectant blond blankly. 

"I... didn't know. Are you?..." Malfoy folded his arms defensively.

"I'm not in a relationship." Harry felt a pang of empathy for Draco. The loneliness the raven-haired man had been feeling in the last few months since coming out had been agonising; but it suddenly felt better knowing that he had someone who could relate. 

"Me neither." He admitted. "I wish I was, though. But he'll never return the feelings." Draco hummed, intertwining his fingers, grey eyes downcast.

"Same." Harry felt a pang of hurt, knowing that the blond had someone in mind. Harry wasn't obsessed. Was he? 

They sat in silence for what felt like years until something finally broke it. It was movement; outside the tent. Both men jumped, eyes darting suddenly, scrambling to find their wands and silently cursing themselves for being so careless. They both faced the door to the tent, eyes wide and wands pointed. It sounded like footsteps in the camp.

"Just someone using the loo?" Harry whispered but Draco shook his head.

"They'd have a light."

"Maybe they didn't want to wake anyone up?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"As if anyone here would have that level of consideration." Harry shrugged in agreement; he couldn't argue. The movement stopped outside and the two men sat, ear's straining. 

Draco moved to stand up. "I'm going to check it out-" 

"No," Harry said, pressing a hand against the blond's chest. He blushed, pulling it away. "I will. What if it's another bogart?" Malfoy crossed his arms.

"I'm not completely incapable of protecting myself, Potter. I've made it this far." Harry smiled slightly.

"With my help." Draco rolled his eyes and folded his arms, reclining once again.

"Whatever." Harry stood; well, crouched, really. There was no room for standing in this tent. Harry paused for a moment, reconsidering. It was the early hours of the morning and there wasn't a light to be seen outside. Anything could be out there waiting to pounce on him. Draco chuckled, and Harry glanced at him.

"Scared, Potter?" Harry grinned. 

"You wish." And with that he unzipped the tent door and slid out, pulling the zip up half way behind him. He turned and the cool morning air hit his face like a slap.

"Lumos." He muttered, and pointed his wand towards the campsite. There was no one around. No one wandering towards the trees in search of a private place to relieve themself. And certainly no lights on- anywhere outside or in the tents which stood in a circle surrounding the campfire which had burned out hours ago. The sound of crunching gravel behind him made Harry jump, and he turned, wand aimed. Draco put his hands up, and Harry lowered his wand.

"Sorry." He murmured, turning back to the campsite. "I didn't hear you coming." The blond stood besides him, fiddling with his wand nonchalantly. "Seems like it was nothing. Just a squirrel or something." Malfoy turned to Harry, and to the black haired man's complete shock, placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"What's wrong, Harry?" The blond's voice was pouty. Harry tried to tug away, but he tightened his grip on his shoulder. It slowly moved up to his neck. Harry's heart began to beet erratically, and he couldn't tell if it was from fear or anticipation. 

"Let go, Malfoy." Harry's chest tightened. What was Draco doing? 

"Why, Harry?" Draco's voice was mad, and his eyes glinted with something Harry couldn't identify. Craze? He tried to shrug away again, but suddenly felt the tip of a wand pointed into his stomach. He stiffened instinctually and his heart was in his throat now. What the hell was happening? One moment they were sharing facts about themselves and coming out, and now Draco had Harry in a near head lock and had his wand pointed into his stomach. Why?

"Malfoy," Harry started slowly. "What the hell are you doing?" Harry's voice was dry with fear, and so hoarse he could barely get the words out. Harry watched in horror as the blond grinned sickly, and then removed his wand from Harry's gut, and moved it upwards.

"Draco-" Harry warned, but the blond just grinned and continued tracing the wand up his side until it was placed on the side of his forehead. In the time it took for Harry to reach his arm out and grab the wand from the suddenly crazed blond's hand; everything seemed slower. He watched as his hand missed the wand by a mile, clasping over empty air, and a green light flashed through the clearing, a sickly colour, too cheerful for the spell it was dedicated to. Harry watched helplessly from above, paralysed as the blond toppled, grin still on his face, towards the ground. Harry heard someone screaming as his knees buckled; and then realised. It was his own scream. He watched in horror as the blond hit the ground, eyes blank and empty- soul taken. He crashed to the ground besides him, grabbing his hand, tears pouring down his face for reasons he couldn't identify, because in this moment, his thoughts were moving too fast to acknowledge any particular emotion. He shook the blond, lifting his head, shouting words he couldn't hear in his own ears. So he shouted louder. 

"WHY?" He screamed fury embedded in his chest. Why would he do this? "DRACO WHY?" He shook the blond furiously, tears splattering onto pale cheeks. "DRACO!" He stared in dispair as the blond didn't shift. "Come on, stay..." He whimpered through sobs. "Stay for me..." He huddled, laying his head on an empty chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished for the world to go away. "Stay with me." But Draco didn't stay. It was too late for that. He was already gone. His soul had already left earth. Harry screamed as his shoulders shook, his voice breaking. How could this happen? He curled up into a ball, tears running down his face and nose dripping.

Draco Malfoy had killed himself. 

Harry heard gravel crunching around him, footsteps jogging towards him. A worried voice asked,

"Harry?" Harry almost screamed again. He heard Draco's voice. But it couldn't be. Draco was in his arms, before him; dead. Harry screamed. Rough hands grabbed him, trying to pull him away from Draco's limp body.

"NO!" He shrieked, thrashing. They couldn't take Draco. They couldn't steal him. "LET GO!" These things grabbing him; they were suddenly the inferior, the enemy. They were trying to take away His Draco. 

"Harry, let go." A cool voice stood out among the shouts and whispers surrounding him. Even the screaming in his head stopped for a moment, just to hear that voice. Harry lifted his head, which felt so heavy he thought his neck would snap. A tall thin figure stood before him, the moon illuminating blond hair. He felt himself shudder and his mouth broke. It broke in that way that anyone who's ever felt the worse pain in the world would know. The way that it breaks, when your heart does too. 

"Draco?" He whispered, eyes supplying a steady stream of tears.

"It's okay." The blond crouched down besides him, gently prying his hands away from the identical dead body before him. Confusion whipped through Harry as he was pulled away tenderly. 

"N-no!" He protested, pulling. He couldn't leave Draco. But which Draco?... His eyes darted between the two- the dead; and the living. He was pulled away, and his hand slipped, slick with sweat, and he dropped the body. He watched in horror as Draco's dead body changed into a dark mass which was chased away by a spell slightly more violent than a riddikulus. Shame spilled through Harry the moment he realised what had happened. He became aware of many things at once. One- Draco; the one he was mostly sure was the real one, was holding him in a firm embrace which in any other occasion would have made his face burn hotter than the sun, but this time, only made him want to scream and sob. Two- he was surrounded by his entire auror team, eyes wild, wands drawn, some still in their boxers. And three- that hadn't been Draco. Not the real Draco. It was a bogart. Just like Draco's bogart. 

Harry regretted doing so the moment he did, but tore himself away from the warm arms of comfort and stood, staggering backwards. Draco's eyes were full of worry and glinting in the moonlight. The last thing he heard before he disapparated was the sound of the dead man's- no; the living man's voice warning him. 

"Harry, no-" And then he was gone. It was all gone.


	8. The Strange But Pleasant Kindliness Of Draco Fucking Malfoy

Something Harry had always hated about himself was how easily he was set off. He was like a ticking bomb- always waiting- always ready. Just the tiniest movement; glance; comment, and that could send him spiralling down through the rabbit hole that lead to an uncontrollable depressive low. It had happened so many times before. Crazy, insignificant things that had beat him, and left him wounded. For example, seeing Malfoy's dead body. 

Harry guessed he was on his fourth day of hiding from the world in shame when he was tugged from his sleep by a deafening pounding on his flat door. Harry lay for a moment, mind foggy and waiting to see if he'd dreamt the sound. He glanced around at the piles of unread Daily Prophets, which had been thrown in a corner, the stacks of clothes scattering the floor, and generally the rest of the messy state of his flat. Who on earth was coming to see him? The door's hinges threatened to give in once again, followed by the sound of an irritated voice from the hall.

"I know you're in there, Potter! Open this damn door right now or so help me I will hex your arse to tomorrow." It took several moments for Harry to recover from the shock of hearing the voice that his mind had been screaming for throughout the last few days in his own ears, before he slowly stood and made his way to the door. He glanced down at himself. He looked like shit. The door rattled menacingly again and Harry tugged it open. Outside stood an impatient looking blonde, dressed in a pale blue t-shirt and dark jeans slung low on his hips. Harry noticed that his hair wasn't in it's usual pushed-back style, but it seemed that the blonde had allowed it to go a little wilder than usual today. Grey eyes landed on the sluggish man and looked him up and down.

"Potter, you look like shit." 

"It's great to see you too, Malfoy." Harry paused. "What do you want?" Harry hadn't meant to sound irritated, but for some reason his mind had decided that hostility was the best way to cover up his shame. The blond folded his arms and stated matter-of-factly,

"I'm here to check on you. As you clearly are not capable of taking care of yourself." The blond nodded towards Harry's scruffy appearance and then scrunched up his nose. "Or educated on the basics of personal hygiene, either, apparently." Harry stood with his hand still on the doorknob, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Draco Malfoy. At his flat. Here. Now. His mind exploded into thousands thoughts that were not much different to the others that had been swimming through his mind in the last few days; unwelcome, but incorrigible. 

"Are you going to stand there all day staring, Potter, or are you going to let me in?" Harry glanced behind him into the darkly lit flat, littered with mess, and then reluctantly stepped out of the way. The blonde stepped inside and Harry shut the door behind him, following as Malfoy makes his way through the flat. Harry watches in silence and he flips all the lights on and scolds.

"Honestly, Potter! This place is revolting." The blond made his way deeper into the flat, clearing a path for himself on the floor as he went. Harry muttered a quiet 'sorry' every time Malfoy almost tripped over something, which was embarrassingly often. Finally, the blond stopped walking, and stood in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by stacks of empty pots and pans that had crashed to the floor earlier in the week due to a rather angry Harry. Draco pursed his lips and pierced Harry with his pale grey eyes. 

"Okay, Potter; here's what we're going to do-"

"We?" Harry gaped. Malfoy sighed. 

"Yes, Potter; we." Draco cast a spell on the silverware, which started flying across the kitchen towards it's dedicated draws. "I'm going to clean this shit-conditioned flat. Get it in descent shape. And you're going to go do the same to yourself." Harry opened his mouth, mind racing, thoughts shoving and pushing to dominate in his mind. He tried to speak but all that came out was a tiny shocked croak. Draco stared at Harry for a few more moments until he realised that he was waiting for him to leave. Harry turned with a surrendering, "Ok!" 

Harry picked his way through the flat, listening to the clink of cutlery as Draco moved it around the kitchen. Harry stripped in the bathroom and stepped into the flow of steaming hot water. He let out a long, resigned sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and lacing his fingers behind his neck. Why was Draco here? Was he trying to torture him? He couldn't believe the blond could barely to look at him after what happened. Harry wondered what the rest of camp had been like after he'd left. He'd undoubtedly failed his training, but hadn't yet received an owl from Silverstone. Or maybe he had, and just hadn't opened it yet. He had a lot of unread mail. He just pities you, whispered a voice in his head, which Harry attempted to wash away with the dirt and grease in his hair. It didn't work. He set to work anyway, washing the rest of his body, and even decided to give himself a rough shave. He glanced at the razor as he swished it in the sink water. It glinted menacingly. No, he thought firmly, and distracted himself by patting his face dry. Now considerably cleaner, Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and padded towards his bedroom. He stood in the doorway, dripping wet and stiff from shock when grey eyes laid on him from the other side of the room. Malfoy stood with a shirt in his hands, mid-fold, eyes wide and mouth open. Harry felt his cheeks turn a bright crimson as grey eyes traced up his calf muscles, over the towel, up his abs and to his burning face. 

"Sorry." Malfoy placed the shirt on the bed and rushed out of the room, past Harry who stood frozen in the doorway. Harry felt it slightly amusing that the blond was so flustered, considering that he'd seen him completely naked less than two weeks ago. Granted, Harry had been quite drunk that night, now he remembered it. Harry glanced from the empty hallway to the bedroom. He barely recognised it. His flat hadn't been this clean in months. Probably since he bought it, a good two years ago. He shut the door silently and dressed. He then set out in search throughout the flat for Draco. Astounded by how much the blond had managed to do in such little time, Harry walked with much less difficulty through the flat, searching blindly until he caught a whiff of something from the kitchen. He peeked around the corner and saw Malfoy standing at the bench, buttering a piece of toast. 

"You're... cooking?" Draco jumped visibly but then relaxed. He placed the toast on a plate and onto the table, next to a bowl of scrambled eggs. 

"When was the last time you ate, Harry?" The blond asked, folding his arms and leaning against the granite bench top. Harry shifted from foot to foot anxiously. 

"I don't know..." He mumbled, and then glanced at the open empty cupboards. "But there was no food-"

"I am aware of that, Potter. That's why I summoned food from my own flat. You now owe me four galleons." Harry suppressed a snort. Trust Draco to expect something in return for a good deed. Harry glanced at the steaming food on the table. It looked good. 

"Thank you." Harry whispered to the floor and saw Draco shrug in the corner of his eye.

"No problem. Now eat it. It's what it's for." Harry glanced up.

"No- Draco. Thank you. No one's ever done this for me before." 

"Done what? Cooked for you?" Harry frowned.

"No- I mean, yes, but- no. I mean... this happens to me sometimes." He gestured weakly to the newly clean house, and then to his newly cleaned self. "And its just- no one's ever cared enough to come and you know... check in. Not even Ron or Herminone." His ears tinged as he felt Draco's eyes on him as he spoke. 

"You're welcome, Potter. It happens to everyone once in a while. Even the best of us." The blond offered Harry a tiny smile, and Harry tried to take as many mental pictures as he could. It wasn't a full smile- he doubted he'd ever see one- but it was something. He shot Draco a grateful smile and then sat down before the food. Draco continued rummaging through the draws as Harry ate- and the two continued a painful habit of watching each other when they thought the other wouldn't notice, and then blushing and looking away when they caught their eye. Harry was watching Draco pull some very odd objects out of a particular draw above the oven, and watched as he pulled out a silver laptop. Harry had forgotten about the gift Hermione had given him for his birthday the last year, and evidently hadn't use it very much, if it had ended up in the draw with all the strange bits and bobs. 

"What's this, Potter?" Draco asked, general interest etched onto his face as he stared at the glimmering HP logo. Hermione had said it stood for his name when she gave it to him, but over time Harry realised that it was just the abbreviated version of the company's name. Draco opened it and stared at all the keys.

"It's a laptop. Muggle stuff." Harry said between mouthfulls and watched in silent amusment as the blond ran his fingertips across the screen, and then over the keys.

"There's so many..." He huffed, and Harry laughed.

"Yeah, there's one for every letter or number." He watched as Draco's eyes visibly lit up and to his shock, Draco said,

"That's incredible! I can't believe the muggles make this stuff!" Harry grinned, placing the fork down next to the empty plate. 

"I can show you how it works, if you like..." Malfoy seemed to blink, as if just processing how he'd been reacting to the muggle technology. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and gently placed the laptop on the benchtop, taking a careful step back.

"No, thank you, Potter. I have errands to run, anyway. I must get going." Harry felt his heart sink in disappointment. He much preferred the Draco he'd caught a glimpse of a few seconds ago, to this closed-off version. "I expect to see you at the Ministry on Monday." Draco said as Harry followed him to the front of the flat. Harry glanced up as the blond put his hand on the doorknob.

"I'm not fired?" Draco glanced over his shoulder.

"Of course not. They couldn't fire Harry Potter. They wouldn't know what to do without you. It's like you're Minister for Magic or something." The blond scoffed, shoving his hair out of his face again irritably. 

Harry's mind suddenly seemed a little less clouded with this new information. "So... I passed training?" Draco nodded.

"Assignments are being handed out this week." Harry felt his mood significantly increase. Work. Something to put effort into. A motive. Something to live for. Finally. "I'll see you then." Malfoy went to step out of the flat, but was stopped by Harry's grip on his wrist. Draco didn't look at him, but turned his head towards the ground.

"Draco." Harry spoke firmly. "Thank you." The blond head nodded slightly, and then Draco wriggled out of his grasp.

"Don't mention it, Potter." And then the blonde left, disapperating, and leaving Harry to stand in the doorway, still trying to process the fact that Draco Malfoy had been to his flat. Harry glanced up and down the hallway, blushing and nodding towards one of his neighbours, and then shut his door. He turned and was faced with a ridiculous number of memos, letters, owls, and several howlers. He sighed in bliss. Work.


	9. Harry Potter And 'Why Must Wizards Be So Goddamned Discriminatory'

When Harry arrived at The Ministry on Monday morning, he was incredibly surprised that he wasn't swarmed by the press the second he stepped out of the floo network. There were no writers from The Daily Prophet screeching,

"Auror Potter! Please, a moment!"

Or interviewers from Witch Weekly, wondering if he would be interested in doing a column for them based on what had happened.

In fact, every witch or wizard he walked past appeared completely nonchalant. Cautiously optimistic, Harry treaded through the atrium, and towards the lifts, making his way to the briefing room; where Silverstone would hand out their assignments for this week. Excited to get back into the swing of work, Harry stepped into the lift, failing to notice the one other occupant as he spoke his floor and stepped away from the door.

"Hey, Potter." Harry looked up at the sound of his last name, meeting foggy brown eyes. He looked Kardon up and down, observing that he was now fully clothed in a set of expensive pale grey dress robes.

"Mason." Harry acknowledged, nodding his head and then turning away. Kardon persisted.

"Didn't expect to see you back here." Harry felt his shoulders tense, and his hands slowly curl into fists. He didn't even notice as he reached for his wand in his back pocket. "After that moment with the boggart, I would have thought you'd just hide out in your flat for the rest of your life." Harry grimaced and turned to look at Kardon, green eyes avoiding his brown ones. "Pretty embarrassing." Harry suppressed a glare. This man did not know when to stop speaking.

"What makes you say that?" Harry regretted asking the moment he did, but he knew he'd have to say something. -Something about this man's nature made Harry second guess just how good his own self control was. The brown haired man ignored Harry's question, and went on speaking.

"I mean, I didn't know you were a fag." He commented so casually, as if the two were just having a light conversation about their favourite teas. Harry felt his grip on his wand tighten, his chest growing stiff and his stomach churning.

"I'm not." Harry states firmly. -He couldn't deny being gay, but he certainly wouldn't stand here and listen to this man's shit labels.

"But you are. You're a queer. You're bent for Malfoy." Harry almost choked on air at this and glanced up at the meter on the top of the lift. He still had another fifteen floors.

"Shove off, Kardon. If this is about the lake, then you walked right into it. I'm not taking your shit." He saw the man slowly begin to reach for his wand as he replied,

"This isn't about the lake. This is about the rest of our auror team needing to know that there's a Cock Jockey among us, probably all over us. I bet you loved sleeping in that tent with Malfoy didn't you?" Harry clenched his jaw and felt his face begin to burn. "I bet you just couldn't keep your hands off him. No wonder you looked so disappointed when he wouldn't strip down for you that night at the lake." Harry glanced up at the meter again. Ten floors. "I can't believe I didn't see it before. It's all so obvious now." Harry gritted his teeth.

"Shut up, Kardon." Kardon slapped Harry's shoulder as he continued to speak,

"You're such a bent little fag, you know that, Harry?" Harry took a step back, pulling his wand from his robes, openly defensive now. "I bet you'd love it if I pressed you up against this wall right now and shagged you." Harry fumed, eyesight blurring from his rage. Sparks began to shoot from the end of his wand as Harry felt his heart race in anger.

"Fuck off." He warned, glaring at the brown-haired man who laughed.

"Don't you mean, 'Fuck me'?" Harry shot a stinging hex at Kardon's chest hitting with a satisfying sizzle and watching as the man looked up in rage.

"How dare you." He snarled. It suddenly occurred to Harry that getting into a wand fight with a man who is considerably larger and stronger than him in a small, enclosed space probably wasn't a good idea. Too late now, a tiny voice in the back of his head whispered. Harry barely dodged a bright yellow hex as he glanced up at the meter above. Five floors. He prayed the lift would move faster.

"Don't try to deny it, Potter-" Kardon snarled as he shot several more hexes, Harry either dodging or blocking them. "I saw the way you were crying over that boggart. You're so bent for him. Its disgusting. Does he know?" Harry shot a badly aimed hex, hands shaking with emotion. He could feel his chest begin to ache. His head was beginning to grow heavy. His thoughts were growing foggy; darker. He's right, Harry. How do you live with yourself? You're just a useless gay little faggot. Harry tore himself from his thoughts to draw his attention to a terrible burning sensation on his left arm. He stared down at his bright red hand and glanced up at Kardon just in time to block another hex.

"A burning hex, Kardon? Honestly, I think you can do better than that." Harry attempted at an insult, but he couldn't feel it. They were just empty words. His head was busing with unwanted thoughts. Harry barely noticed that the lift had come to a halt until the heavy silver gates slid open and he was staring out at the freedom of the Department of Law Enforcement's hallways. Harry flew out of the lift, turning his back for a minute second. He could hear Kardon in persuit. "This is childish, Kardon. Surely you've more dignity than this." He dodged a skull engorgio and shot back a knee reversal hex in defence. Kardon blocked it and laughed.

"I'd rather this than have a whore on my auror team." Harry glanced around, dodging a shouted 'Mutatio Skullus' and pleading with his eyes as every person in the halls stopped to observe the scene unfolding before them. Harry Potter, the Saviour of The Wizarding World, The Boy who Lived, The Man Who Defeated Lord Voldemort and ended the Second Wizarding World, was getting beat at a duel, by an auror. Harry prayed someone would do something, but they all just stared watching as Harry was slowly reduced to near weeping. Harry weakly blocked a babbling curse, his body growing nearly as weak as his mind as he failed to recall any of the spells he had learnt over the last twelve years. He tripped over his own feet and landed backwards, head throbbing. He stared up in despair at the taller man thumping towards him. Harry aimed a half-hearted Locomotor Mortis, but missed by a mile.

"Now, we're going to go tell Malfoy how you feel and then we're going to make sure the rest of the aurors know too." Kardon threatened, pointing his wand at Harry. Harry's eyes darted around before he felt his thoughts finally calm into a dream like ocean. "Imperio." Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. It felt nice; to finally not have to think. Not have to worry. Not have to fight his own mind. He didn't even have to make decisions. Kardon did that for him.

Stand. A voice whispered in Harry's head. Harry stood. He heard someone say something, but it was muffled, as if Harry was far away, listening through a pair of Extendable Ears. "Ah, Malfoy; we were just looking for you. Harry here wanted to tell you something." Harry watched through blurred eyes and a blurred mind as a blond headed figure approached Kardon and himself.

Tell him, Harry. The voice spoke. Tell him you want to fuck him. Harry glanced at the blond, meeting grey eyes. Harry hesitated. No. He replied. The voice repeated again, agitated, tell him. Tell him you want his cock up your ass, Potter. Harry rebelled, feeling his thoughts starting to creep back into his own head. He couldn't let Kardon do this. He wasn't exactly sure what 'this' was, but he knew it would have horrible consequences. Harry spoke aloud, regain control for a minute,

"Draco-" But he was pulled back under, into a series of waves- commands. Tell him. Tell him, Harry. Shout it. Say it, you fag! Harry's defence crippled and as he broke, he felt one significant thought break through the mist- Some hero you are- you can't win all the time. Harry felt the foggy cloud spread throughout his body and forced his mouth open.

"Malfoy, I want to fuck you." Harry could feel his own heart screaming in protest- no; this isn't what he wanted, but at this time he was having trouble identifying his own heart from Kardon's demands. He watched in dismay as the words slipped from his mouth and observed the effect they had around him. Several people in the audience gasped, and he saw Draco take a sharp intake of breath. Tell them what a fag you are. Tell them. Harry pleads with the voice but its no use. He shouts,

"I'm a fa-" Before the sentence was finished, the fog-like haze had been lifted from Harry's mind and all his thoughts came rushing back in an overwhelming wave of emotion. He picked out one specific thought among the pitch black tsunami. -Fuck. Kardon's wand flew across the room, and his body followed, propelled by an expulso. Harry falls to his knees, his eyes rolling in the back of his head and his vision turning black as his head hit the cold marble floor, every inch of his body aching. Just as Harry's eyes slid shut a worried face lowered to his level, brow furrowed and Harry noticed one detail. -Beautiful pale grey eyes.

***

Harry awoke in a darkly lit room and was immediately taken aback by it's similarities to the cellar beneath Malfoy Manor. The dark, dangerous corners, the damp undistinguishable scent that was distinctly Malfoy. The screaming. Harry pulled his head back to reality, glancing around and noticing a figure perched on the desk. Harry swallowed and rolled his shoulders slightly, wincing in pain.

"You could turn on a light, Malfoy." Harry commented, wincing as his head gave one particularly bad throb. He heard Draco scoff.

"You could be grateful, Potter." He watched as the blond turned to the table and poured himself a drink. "Then again, you never have been one to prioritise formalities." Harry felt the blond's glare on him in the darkness.

"Drinking on the job, Malfoy? I really ought to report you."

"For your information, Potter, its a herbal tea. And I think we have more pressing matters to discuss other than my alcohol consumption habits." The two men sat in silence for a few moments, Draco quietly sipping at his drink, and Harry slowly assessing the damage all over his body. His head felt heavy and his mind struggled to string two thoughts together, but other than that, nothing else seemed to have suffered too harshly. Except his dignity, perhaps. And his reputation, not that Harry cared for it. He recalled the image of Kardon flying through the air, and all though Harry would have thought it would bring him pleasure, all the memory did was make him feel more terrible about himself. Harry dragged his mind away from the thoughts.

"How did you..." Harry starts, meeting grey eyes as they look up. "How did you know I was-" The blond shot Harry a smirk.

"Possessed? You would think after seven years of school, and on top of that another two years of training that I'd be fairly sure at how to identify an Imperius Curse when presented with one." Harry nodded in understanding. The blond did have a point. "Not to mention countless personal encounters." Draco added darkly.

"So you understand that all that- that everything I said-"

"You didn't mean to say? Yeah I get it." Harry watched as Draco's eyes fell downcast, and despite now being reassured that the blond had been aware that Harry hadn't been openly saying what he had, it didn't prevent shame from tearing away at his chest and burning his cheeks.

"Where's Kardon?" Harry inquired dully, examining a patch of blood on his robes.

"Under arrest down at the Minister's office. Kingsley's giving him a right beating for using an unforgivable." The blond paused. "I'd like to see him weasel his way out of this one." He added amusedly. "The press turned up about ten minutes ago. That's why Silverstone got me to bring you here. He didn't want the Prophet finding out all the details, I suppose.

"Fairly sure I even saw Lovegood down there." Harry perked up at this. Luna Lovegood? Harry hadn't seen anyone from school since the end of the war, given the exception of Ron and Hermione, who were usually busy working or too involved with each other to catch up with him anyways. Everyone's main focus after the war was just getting back onto their feet. Everyone had things to do. Family's to care for. Homes to rebuild. Schooling to finish. Hermione had mentioned perhaps organising a Hogwarts reunion the last time they had spoken, but that had been many months ago now. Harry felt a pang of sadness at the realisation that his friends mustn't want him around anymore. Now that the war was over, no one needed him. -He had served his purpose.

"I'm sorry if he insulted you." Harry said in a low tone, examining his robe cuffs and the several tears now adorning them. "Sorry if I insulted you." He glanced up and watched as Malfoy shrugged.

"Kardon's an arsehole. His opinion is completely irrelevant to me." Harry sighed in agreement. "Regardless, what he did to you was not right. He performed an unforgivable curse, and will probably be tried for harassment, also." The blond topped up his glass and Harry placed his head in his hands, tilting it to the side to watch him.

"I didn't do anything, you know. To make him angry. I supposed he was pissed from the lake, but he wouldn't answer when I asked."

"It's not your fault." The blond replied, sipping his drink. "Kardon was pissed after you left camp because I had to bunk with him and his partner because Silverstone wouldn't allow me to sleep alone. They had the biggest tent, you see." This was news to Harry, who was now attempting to brace both arms on either side of the chair and pull himself up.

"I have to go find Silverstone." Harry felt the earth tip sideways, and before he could blink, a cold hand was on his shoulder, steadying him and gently prompting him back into his chair.

"No. You're still too weak. And honestly, Potter, you can barely see." It suddenly occurred to Harry why he had been having so much trouble actually seeing the blond; he wasn't wearing his glasses. Malfoy handed the cold frames to Harry, who took them and returned them to their rightful place. "They were broken." Malfoy stated as Harry blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted. The room suddenly felt a lot less murky and dark, as Harry looked around, observing which was now clear to him, what must be Malfoy's office.

A magical fire heated the room from it's place behind the desk; which had been organised rather satisfyingly, incorporating several deadly straight stacks of paper, a tin of quills, and now that Harry didn't have to squint anymore- what was clearly not a booze bottle, but a thermos of tea. All four walls were hidden behind ceiling-heigh bookcases which were overflowing with texts, each properly categorised and labelled. Harry smirked. The office was practically a physical representation of Malfoy's obsessive nature. The chair he was sitting in was a pale green, which matched the colour scheme of the room nicely. Slytherin forever, Harry thought.

"Listen, Malfoy-" Harry starts, meeting the blond's eyes once again. "I'm sorry about what happened. I can't imagine how hard it would have been for you." Malfoy snorted.

"It was your boggart, Potter. Not mine. I have no fear of dying." Harry blinked, repeating the strange statement in his head.

"You don't?" He asked cautiously, fiddling with his fingers. The blond shook his head. Draco sighs and opens his mouth,

"Potter, I-" Before he can continue the door bangs open and several wizards and witches swarm inside, pulling out quick-quote quills and screeching questions at Harry. Harry stood and backed up to the desk. His arse bumped against Malfoy and he blushed horribly as he took a large step away and several cameras flashed.

"Auror Potter, a statement please!"

"Auror Potter, what do you have to say about the incident?"

"Auror Potter, the readers of Witch Weekly are all dying to know, is their long time crush really homosexual?"

"Excuse me!" Harry steams, feeling his ears grow hot and his cheeks, red. He began to speak, but was cut off by another series of shouts. "I'm not taking interviews-" He was once again bombarded with questions. "I don't-" The babbling of the press was seised by a roar from behind Harry. He felt himself jump, and glanced behind him in shock.

"ENOUGH!" The press blinked, silenced for a moment, but quills ready, as always. Harry looked up at Malfoy, who was now standing on the desk, towering over them all. "I do not ever appreciate someone barging into my office uninvited, let alone the press! Entering a private space without a warrant is illegal, must I remind you?! Auror Potter is not making any statements until further notice, so I suggest you all leave, before I call the Ministry down on you, as well as the Accused!" Malfoy took a gulp of air, panting from his rant, eyes fiery with rage. The press stared. The Daily Prophet's photographer snapped a photo of Malfoy silently. Witch Weekly's writer clicked her fingers impatiently at her quick-quotes quill which scribbled down several sentences. An interviewer stepped forward, mouth open-

"I SAID OUT!" Malfoy roared, to which the press paused, and then grumbled, filling out of the room. A short man hung back, approaching Harry and placing a card in his hand.

"Boris Jones, Auror Potter, it's an honour meet you. Please owl me if you can spare a moment-"

"Which he cannot, so sorry! Goodbye!" Harry watched, befuddled, as Malfoy ushered the squat man out of the door and slammed the door shut, locking it with several spells, each more intricate than the last. Harry leaned against the desk cautiously.

"Sorry about that." Malfoy turned, eyes still wild and hair slightly disheveled. Harry liked it like that.

"It actually felt good to shout at someone." Harry gave the blond a reproachful glance as he slid behind the desk and into the desk chair.

"You're not going to shout at me now, are you?" Harry asked quietly, only half joking. Malfoy stared dissatisfied at his empty thermos, shaking it repetitively over his cup, as if hoping some will suddenly appear inside and pour out.

"Of course not, Potter. I have no reason to shout at you, besides the fact that you're an insufferable prat." Harry felt a pang of guilt course through him.

"Sorry." He whispered, shifting his feet uncomfortably. He no longer felt worthy of sitting in the chair behind him; it was Malfoy's chair. But he also didn't want to stand here like an idiot. Malfoy looks up, crossing his arms.

"'Sorry', Potter?" Harry felt his cheeks burn. "There's no need to be sor-" A nock on the door halted Draco mid-sentence. "OH, FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN!" He roared, throwing his arms in the air and throwing himself out of the chair, walking around the desk to the door. He pulls it open, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, as it swings back, almost smashing the blond in the side of his head. He pauses, glares at the door, and then back to the person standing in the doorway.

"What? " He spits, and Harry watches curiously as Malfoy tenses. Harry crains his neck to see who had such an effect on the blond who, just a few seconds ago had been standing on a table, shouting. A large, black man stood before him, dressed in expensive robes and arms crossed.

"M-minister." Draco stutters a greeting. "I'm terribly sorry-"

"There's no time for this, Malfoy. Let me in." The blond steps aside silently, shutting the door behind Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry catches grey eyes from behind Kingsley as he approaches.

"Mr Potter." Kingsley acknowledges Harry and he looks up.

"Kingsley." He nods. Draco slides behind the desk again, wand out and fiddling between his fingers. Had he been in any other situation he would have laughed at how intimidated the blond was by the tall man.

"Might as well get straight into business. Kardon has decided to plea Not Guilty by reason of being under the Imperius Curse." Harry hears Draco swear behind him and Harry jumps. "Ironic, I know. Harry, the trial is tomorrow, and you have been asked to attend for questioning. I suggest you hire the best lawyer you can, as Kardon has already done so. And the press will be attending." Harry felt his mouth fall open.

"They're going to know the whole thing?" Kingsley shook his head.

"No one knows the whole thing but yourself and Kardon. I suggest you tell the full truth, tomorrow, Potter." Harry gulped. If he told the whole truth, he'd have to come out. And he had no idea how he would do it. He had been planning on telling Ron and Hermione next time they'd spoken, but he hadn't seen either in months. He didn't even know if he'd be accepted. He didn't want someone else to do the same thing Kardon did.

"Thank you, Minister." Harry murmurs, the words empty in his ears. He shuts his eyes and pinches his nose, listening as the large man lumbers out of the room, Draco shutting the door behind him. Harry wipes away a tear, hoping Malfoy didn't see before opening his eyes again and meet grey ones.

"I have to go home." Harry states, glancing down at his watch. It was 12:42pm. He still had enough time to get his head together before finding a lawyer. Draco begins to speak, but Harry stops him.

"Thanks, Malfoy. Sorry for what happened." Harry leaves the office, dodging the press and taking the Floo Network to Diagon Alley. He steps out into the cool winds; surprisingly cold for April, and squinted into the rain. He passes a witch placing an umbrella charm over a newspaper cart and stops when he sees his own name.

MINISTRY GAY SCANDAL! the headlines screamed. A photo of Draco standing on his desk, shouting, was played repeatedly beneath the title. Harry's face dominated the rest of the page, eyes wide behind the lenses of his round glasses. It was an old photo. One he remembered was taken during the war. Apparently, the press had been so disinterested in him lately, that they had no recent photos to use. Harry snorted, memories of the war were horrific, and yet, somehow humorous. It struck him unfair that he had survived all that, and today, still had to deal with idiotic things like this.

Harry walked away as the headlines changed to EX-DEATH EATER MALFOY DEFENDS POTTER AFTER MINISTRY SCANDAL!

He stepped into Gringotts, shaking the rain from his hair and stepped towards the high counters. The last time he'd been here, he'd barely been able to see over the top. He stared the angry-looking goblin right in the eye.

"Harry Potter." Harry said through gritted teeth. "Find me your best lawyer."


	10. Harry Potter And 'Why Must Wizards Be So Goddamned Discriminatory?' Part 2

Harry stepped out of the floo network the next morning with strong, determined steps. He felt oddly as if a rather large cat had been sitting on his chest all morning, restricting his breathing, and he took a deep breath in the hope that it would help. It didn't. He took the stairs at the end of the Atrium as he headed to level 2, the Wizengamot, avoiding the lifts for reasons his head didn't know, but his gut warned him against. Harry glanced at the giant clock in the atrium as he passed through and quickened his pace. As he semi-jogged up the stairs he passed several witches and wizards he vaguely recognised from the day Harry had dueled Kardon. Admittedly, not very well. Harry pushed the thought out of his head and turned a corner, racing up the second flight of stairs.

"Shit-" He swore as his barrelled into someone, stumbling backwards. He caught his balance and looked up, meeting cold grey eyes.

"Potter!" Malfoy said, embarassment etched on his pale face as he took a careful step back. The blond brushed himself off, glare tracing Harry's face. "I was looking for you."

"You were?" Harry adjusted his robes and replaced his glasses to his face. He squinted at the blond, now finally able to see him. Malfoy glanced down at Harry's crimson robes and smirked.

"Feeling particularly fiery today, Potter?" Harry felt his mind darken at the comment on his choice of robes. He didn't need Malfoy's nagging. Not today. "It's terribly gryffindor-ish of you, isn't it?"

"For your information, Malfoy, red represents feelings of strength, power and determination, all around the world. I was hoping that wearing the colour would spark a few of those traits in myself, as well as others around me, today, throughout the trial." Harry shot a pointed glare at Draco. "And I don't see you wearing any rainbow coloured robes, so I suggest you shut your damned mouth." Harry watched as Malfoy considered what Harry had just said for a moment, until the blond finally realised what Harry had been insinuating, and looked up, seething.

"It might interest you to know, Potter, that representation of the LGBT Community in Wizarding Britain is unfortunately, significantly lacking, and definitely not something you should use to insult someone with. Not to mention that this is highly unprofessional, and ridiculously inappropriate considering what exactly we are suing Kardon for today!"

"We?" Harry grinned as he bent down to pick up his distastefully small pile of notes for the court session today that he had dropped in his haste to detach himself from the blond man. "Decided to help, did you? Or are you just trying to mess it all up for me?" Straightening, Harry's grin faded as he looked at Malfoy properly, for the first time all morning. The blond's eyes were rimmed with black circles so dark that his pale eyes popped almost animatedly. His long fingers clutched a enormous coffee cup as if it were a lifeline, and behind him followed several piles of paper, stacked high with hundreds of notes on sexuality lawsuits in both, Wizarding Britain, and America. They had been levitated to follow the blond wherever he went. Harry felt his jaw go slack.

"Mal- Draco... Merlin, did you stay up all night researching the case?" The blond's ears turned pick the same moment his cheeks did.

"NO." The blond answered, voice wavering as his brow swooped downwards. Harry grinned.

"You did... Merlin. Malfoy, I don't know what to say... Thank you." The blond shrugged as if it were nothing and turned in the opposite direction to which he had originally been heading in. He bagan walking towards the Wizengamot, and gestured for Harry to do the same.

"I was there after all, Potter. It would be rude of me not to take sides." Harry fell into step alongside the agitated looking man, throwing nervous glances at the several piles of paper now trailing along behind them.

"Isn't it the opposite of that?" When the blond didn't answer him, Harry moved on. "What have you found?" He questioned, nodding, once again, towards the hundreds of facts following along behind them. Malfoy turned a corner and continued walking at a steady, determined pace. Harry paused. That hall led to The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Recognition swept through Harry the same moment memories flooded his mind. He pushed them aside. "Um- Malfoy..."

"What, Potter?" The blond turned, arms raised, spilling coffee slightly on the floor.

"Wizengamot's that way." Harry pointed left. Malfoy scowled and shoved past the raven-haired man, muttering something about everything being Potter's fault. Harry fell back into step.

"I found that he can be charged for harassment of one's sexuality, discriminatory abuse, and the use of an Unforgivable." The blond stated, gesturing mildly to one of the three piles following behind them. "I also found that unless he can defend himself, he's due eight years in Azkaban for the use of the Imperius Curse." He gestured to the second pile. "And I also spent a few hours working on defence and assault responses for questioning. Our case is flawless." The blond added dryly, "If I do say so myself."

"Draco..." Harry stopped walking, pausing to look into his auror partner's icy eyes. Harry took a step closer, ignoring that Draco had leant backwards when he did so. "Thank you." Harry watched pale cheeks dust with pink.

"Honestly, Potter, it's no big deal; I have no idea why you're making such a fuss about it." Harry studied pale facial features as they blushed. He noticed that Malfoy was more so affected by Harry's close proximity, apposed to his praise. Harry took another step closer and Malfoy's cheeks began to turn red.

"No. Really. I owe you one." Malfoy blinked, chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry was so close he could feel his partners breath on his cheeks.

"O-one what, Potter?" Malfoy's demand lost its effect when his voice wavered. Instead, it came out as more of a whimper. Harry felt himself reel. What was he doing? He took a large step back. And then another. He could feel his muscles tighten in chagrin as his realisation sunk in.

"Whatever you want. I'll buy you coffee sometime or something." Harry said, before turning and stumbling into the courtroom, chest tighter with anxiety than it had been when he had arrived. What was wrong with him? Harry was sat on one side of the room, whilst Kardon's defence was preparing their case on the other. Despite it being in the same corridor Harry had walked down several years ago for his own Disciplinary hearing, the room was much different to the one his trial had been held it.

It resembled closely to a muggle courtroom, and Harry wondered idly if the Wizard whom had designed magical lawsuits had known the two courses of action were so similar. Harry lowered his gaze to his notes when he saw Draco walk into the courtroom, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. Malfoy sat down next to Harry without a slither of acknowledgement and proceeded to shuffle around some papers. The rest of the room filed into their seats. Harry glared across Malfoy to the other side of the room, where Kardon turned and met his glare.

"Fag." He mouthed, and then turned to the front. Harry felt his blood boil with rage.

Kingsley stood and the others in the room followed in suit.

"Accusatory hearing of the second of April, into offences committed under the Decree for the Well-being and Treatment of Wizarding Citizens by Mason Theodore Kardon. Interrogators: Kinglsey Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic; William Morrison, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dionysius Floella, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Norbert Pip." Kingsley's voice boomed throughout the room and Harry could feel the tension rising. "Please sit." The court sat. "An account of the first of April, the morning in question." Kingsley demanded. Harry stared up at the minister, and was momentarily transported back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The smell of Molly Weasley's cooking as the Order sat around a table discussing the return of Voldemort in hushed whispers. Harry remembered speaking with Sirius and finally being able to spend time with his God Father. It brought back a large amount of sadness. Those moments hadn't been happy times, but they had all made the best of them, and therefore, they were happy memories. Harry missed the feeling of being part of a family. He didn't have that anymore.

A stout witch stood, holding a long scroll of parchment and cleared her throat.

"According to accusations made by the defendant; on the morning of April 1st at 8:24am, Mason Theodore Kardon, Auror, assaulted Harry James Potter, Auror, with the use of verbal discriminatory, and the casting and manipulation of the Unforgivable Curse, the Imperius Curse." Harry saw Malfoy flinch beside him out of the corner of his eye. "Do either parties disagree with the events in this statement?" The stout witch looked around and when no one stood, she nodded to the Minister, and then sat.

"Will the Representative of the Accused please present their rebuttal." Harry glared as Kardon's lawyer stood and glanced his way, before grinning and turning to the minister.

"Minister. Jury." He greets, nodding in respect. Harry's mouth is bitter with the need to slap the man. His faux politeness was disgusting. "I stand before you today, to both defend and protect my client, and as an extent, the Wizarding Community of Britain. My client accepts all charges presented from verbal discriminatory, and would like to defend for charges of the use of an unforgivable." Harry glanced at Malfoy, who was stiff in his chair and glaring next to him.

The grey-haired lawyer continued his speech, glancing at Harry every few moments. "My client believes that those who are mentally or otherwise unstable in our society should not be permitted to wander the workplace as they currently do. And my client has good reason to believe that this wizard-" Kardon points at Harry, "is indeed queer." Harry stood in fury, vision blurring as he kicked his chair backwards.

"YOU-" He was cut off by a voice which appeared to be equally as angry, but which hid it slightly better than Harry did.

"Objection, Minister!" Kingsley looked down at Harry and Malfoy, who both stood side by side, eyes blazing.

"Will the defendant please be seated." They both sat grudgingly. "And will the Representative of the Accused please use the correct term." Harry glanced at Kardon who grinned back before exchanging glances with his lawyer.

"Yes, Minister. As I was saying; in a workplace where many wizards of the same sex interact in an intimate and personal way on a daily basis, my client believes that it is inappropriate for a wizard of homosexual orientation," The lawyer glanced purposefully at Harry, who was one comment away from flipping him the finger, "to be engaging in these activities alongside these other men. My client was simply concerned for the privacy and modesty of his coworkers." Kingsley glanced down at a sheet of paper in his hand.

"These statements do not justify Mr Kardon's actions, nor the use of an Unforgivable." He boomed.

"He's getting there." Kardon snapped, and then added, "Minister."

The lawyer turned to the ministry workers sat on the left of the room, around 50 of them, and cleared his throat. "I'd like to pose a question to the jury. If a man, a straight man; walked into the women's washrooms after a game of quiddditch, or vice-versa- gender wise- how many here would feel disturbed?" Harry watched as the entirety of the stands raised their hands. The lawyer turned to look Harry directly in the eyes. "So my point is, Minister; if presented with the same case as I just spoke of, is that it should be dealt with the same way as when one's sexuality matches the metaphorical straight man in question. I imagine that a majority of my client's auror partners would feel threatened being in a change room with a man whom they knew was lusting over them, much like said metaphorical straight man. I know that my client certainly feels threatened."

"Bullshit." Harry mutters, listening to the blood rushing in his ears as the courtroom fell silent. He glanced at Malfoy, who was trying, and clearly failing at calming himself with deep breaths. No one here knew Malfoy was gay. Granted, no one here knew for sure that Harry was gay, besides himself and Malfoy, whom he had come out to. He suddenly realised that this would be an extremely confronting moment for Draco as well.

Kingsley took a deep breath, "So in an attempt to pursue the non-employment of homosexual wizards in the Ministry, Mr Kardon acted upon his belief that Mr Potter was indeed homosexual, and therefore?"

"-Decided to ask him what his opinions of the matter were, and when Mr Potter began to attack, my client had no choice but to defend himself." Harry scowled down into his lap, knee jiggling wildly, his head swirling with anger and anxiety. He heard Malfoy shift in his seat beside him.

"Thank you." Kingsley spoke, and then nodded towards Harry. "Will Mr Potter's Representative please stand." Harry glanced to his left as both, the lawyer he had hired from Gringotts, and Malfoy began to stand. Draco scowled at the same moment Harry's lawyer -Gary Cook- shot him a confused glance. Harry looked between him and Draco.

"A moment, please, Minister." Kingsley nodded and then began speaking to a tall, thin witch next to him, who bore an uncomfortable resemblance to Petunia Dursley. Harry turned to Cook. "Gary I'm sorry for the short notice, but would it be okay if Malfoy took your place for today?" The man shrugged.

"You're the one payin' me fifty galleons an hour for bein' here, Mr Potter." Harry turned to Malfoy.

"Draco, could you present our case? Please?" The blond looked up from the spot on the desk he had been glaring at, and met Harry's eyes. Despite almost getting head-butted, Harry grinned when Malfoy stood up with so much vigour and force he almost knocked over the table. He looked brave, fearless, and positively furious.

"Minister." Malfoy spoke loudly, adopting an official, bold tone. "Jury." He glanced down for a moment, reading his notes. "I would like to begin by stating that I was a witness of the events from the day in question. And I would further like to point out, that to anyone with a slither of common sense, it would be obvious that Mr Potter was merely an innocent victim of a brutal, discriminatory and unfair act of violence. One that should be acted upon to ensure that it does not happen again." There was a nervous murmur at Malfoy's confidence from Kardon's table and Harry cautioned a glance at the worried wizards. He grinned up at Malfoy.

"Mr Kardon," Malfoy lifted his head high, addressing the entire court, "Has committed a serious crime. He has discriminated. Something that we, as a wizarding community are trying to diminish. Especially after the unjust discrimination towards half-bloods and muggleborns in the Second Wizarding War. I would hope that after the rise and fall of Lord Voldemort, that our Ministry, and as an extension; our community, would be doing whatever they are capable of to reduce the discrimination, no matter whom it is towards in the aftermath of the war." The court fell silent for a moment.

"Very well said, Mr-?" Kingsley suddenly seemed to remember that he hadn't asked Malfoy's name.

"Malfoy." Draco stated his name with bitter resentment and the court suddenly burst into a series of whispers. Harry felt his chest tighten in angst. He glanced at Kardon who was grinning back.

"Malfoy? Like Lucius Malfoy?"

"The Death Eater?"

"He's a Death Eater, too!"

"He should be in Azkaban!" Shouted a portly man from the back row. Harry glanced at Malfoy who's head was shaking wildly back and forth in an attempt to stop the crowd from shouting.

"Order!" Boomed Kingsley, voice deep and angry. "State your full name." He demanded as Draco glanced between Harry and the Minister, searching for reassurance. Harry gave him a weak smile. The blond almost smiled back.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy." The whispers broke out again, growing with volume and intensity.

"STOP!" Roared Kingsley and the court fell silent once again. "Mr Malfoy- your family is well known for their prejudiced opinion of muggles, and non-pure-blooded wizards. You are also an accused Death Eater, as is your father. What makes you stand here today, before this court, and present opinions so incredibly different from the expected? Are there any ulterior motives?" Harry glanced at Malfoy who had begun to visibly shake. He swallowed, and opened his mouth to speak, but when he did, it didn't come out nervous like Harry suspected.

"Minister, I am not an 'accused Death Eater' as you put it. I was a Death Eater, and indeed, I do possess the Dark Mark." The whispers were building again and Harry jumped in his seat when several reporters from the Prophet apparated on his right, cameras flashing the moment they appeared. Quick Quote Quills began taking down everything Malfoy said. A reporter stood next to Harry, whispering into a muggle recording device.

"Mr Potter's looking anxious-" Harry turned and glared at the man, who clicked the off button and pocketed the device. Malfoy continued speaking, ignoring the sudden appearance of the press,

"But on the contrary, my motives and opinions are very much different to my fathers, and always have been. I do not believe that anyone deserves to be discriminated against. And I also expect, that having cleared innocent after the Second Wizarding War, that I do not deserve to receive discrimination for simply a mark on my left arm." The entire room took an intake of breath when Malfoy rolled up his sleeve, baring his left forearm. The silence lasted a single second, before press began scrambling towards him, twisting for a photo of the skull-shaped scar on the adonis's arm, before the jury began shouting in rage, before Kingsley's holler broke through the noise.

"Mr Malfoy this is highly inappropriate." Kingsley shouted over the hundreds of voices. Harry glanced at Malfoy, who seemed frozen where he was; his right hand still holding up his left sleeve.

"Malfoy-" Harry tried to cut in, tugging on his robes, trying to pull the blond back into his seat.

"The Ministry cannot accept claims from a Death Eater!" Shouted another auror from the stands.

"Mr Potter, any comments on your partner's actions?" The press screamed, reaching out their hands, trying to grab hold of him. Harry stood, tugging on Malfoy's arm fully now.

"Draco-"

"We can't trust him!" The screaming persisted as Harry continued to tug on Draco's arm.

"Death Eater!"

"Just like his father!"

"He deserves to rot in Azkaban!"

"Give him to the Dementors!"

"Murderer!"

"Death Eater!"

"Psycho!"

Harry becomes frantic, "Malf-"

"I VOLUNTEER TO BE TRIALLED UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF VERITASERUM!" Malfoy hollered over the crowd. The shouting died down, and the only sounds left were the flashes of the camera as they tried to get a shot of The Boy Who Lived tugging on the arm of his Death Eater auror Partner. Draco shook Harry off, shoving him back down into his seat. He stood tall, chin high.

"I also volunteer my own, and Mr Potter's untampered memories for authorised viewing in the Ministry's Pensieve as evidence for the trial, and request that Mr Kardon's party provide their own, also." It was Harry who was the first to react. He stood and shoved Malfoy so he'd look at him.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, eyes wide. Malfoy turned back to Kingsley.

"Helping you win this case." Harry tried to face the blond again.

"You can't just offer up someone else's memories!" He said loudly. Then slightly less loudly, he hissed, "I don't want Kardon seeing my whole life story!" Malfoy glared at him.

"I don't particularly want anyone seeing mine, either, but it's the only way you're going to win this!" Malfoy hissed back. Kingsley stood and the press turned to him, lenses flashing as he spoke.

"Mr Malfoy. The ministry will consider your request and you will be notified within the next few hours. The court is excused." A light buzz grew louder as chairs scraped the floor and Kingsley walked out of the room, speaking to the same woman as before. Harry turned to Malfoy, who was staring down at the ground blankly. The anger that had been etching at his chest melted when he saw the empty look on his partner's pale face. Harry reached out, placing a hand on the blond's bony shoulder.

"Malfoy? Are you-" Harry faltered. It was a surreal moment, he thought, as he held his enemy of twelve years by the shoulder and could actually feel himself caring for his well being. "Are you okay?" Grey eyes flickered up to meet his, and Harry could see the sadness there.

"I'm becoming him." Draco whispered. Harry waited a moment for him to continue, and when he didn't, he squeezed the blond's shoulder slightly.

"You're becoming who?" His grey eyes were stormy like a hailstone when he answered.

"My father." Shock hit Harry hard. He found it near impossible to believe that Malfoy was seriously standing before him right now, after all the good he'd done; all the caring things, and he honestly thought he was turning into his father. Sure, he had a Dark Mark- but it was a scar. And he didn't have a choice.

"Draco." Harry said firmly, carefully taking a pale hand in his. Harry blocked every other thought out of his mind. He forgot about the case. Kardon. His own insecurities. He looked Malfoy dead in the eye and spoke, "I know Lucius Malfoy. I know the people he's hurt and the sick, twisted things he's done. Not all of them; but I know. And I know you, Draco. After everything you've done for me, all the mile's you've run." Harry watched as the blond squirmed under his gaze. "Sure you may be an insufferable git at times; some more than others." Harry almost smiled under the glare he received for that. "But I don't believe that you're a bad man. And your father is a bad man." Draco squirmed, tugging his hand away from Harry's, but he kept a firm grip.

"Harry, stop-"

"I owe you a lot, Malfoy. In fact, I owe you several lifetimes." The blond scoffed, finally succeeding in detaching his hand from Harry's.

"I've done nothing of a sort, Potter and you know it. If anything, I think I owe you quite a bit more than you may hold me accountable for." Grey eyes darted away, tracing the marble on the floor.

"Even so," Harry said, lifting the blond's chin, "You are not your father. And you will never be." Malfoy looked into Harry's eyes for a moment and then gave a humourless laugh.

"But I have the Dark Mar-"

"And it's a scar, Draco. You didn't ask for it. It's a symbol of what you've survived, and what you've overcome to be here; living; breathing; alive. You should be proud." Harry felt his heart glow as the blond gave him a reluctant smile. Harry noted how his pale face crinkled slightly when he did so, and how his eyes lit up in a way Harry had never seen them do. He could feel himself leaning closer, needing to see more. He liked this feeling; making Draco happy. It made him feel like he was actually worth something. With that thought he backed up, taking a step backwards. What was he doing? He couldn't do this. Malfoy didn't want this. He thought he saw a glimmer of disappointment in those grey eyes, but before he got a chance to follow up on it, a painful hand slapped down on his shoulder in a faux-friendly way.

"Look who it is. Potter." Harry pulled himself from Kardon's grasp and took a step to the side, instinctively protecting Draco.

"Kardon." Harry spat, feeling his eyes darken with hatred. "How's Azkaban looking? Nice? I hear they've taken the Dementors away. Shame." Kardon gave a humourless laugh and took a step closer.

"Haven't been, actually. They have no proof that your little claims are true, so they can't imprison me." Harry glared at the man whom he thought deserved a thousand lifetimes in Azkaban.

"Don't worry, you'll be there soon enough." Kardon simply hummed and began to turn away. He stopped, and turned back, looking Harry directly in the eye.

"Interesting creatures, Dementors." With that, the man turned and walked away. Harry stood for a moment, processing their, thankfully, brief conversation and only turned when Malfoy began moving sheets around on the desk.

"What the fuck was that about?" The blond asked, craning his neck to see around Harry so he could watch the other auror leave.

"No idea." Harry said, forcing his breaths out slow in an attempt to calm himself. He snatched his wand from his pocket. "Tempus." It was three in the afternoon. Bloody hell, where did the time go? He turned to leave, giving Malfoy a curt nod as he made his way to the door.

"Hold on!" Shouted the blond, chasing after him. "Where do you think you're going?" Harry shrugged, stepping past several witches and wizards and into the hall.

"Probably home for a nap, and then if I'm lucky, out to get drunk." The blond shot him a look that seemed to be a mixture of disapproval and anger.

"Don't you have better things to do, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was judgemental as they passed through the atrium and headed for the floo network. Harry sighed.

"There's nothing else we can really do, is there? I don't have the mind right now to both, wait for Kingsley's reply and deal with Kardon sober. At least then when I offer up my mind for the whole Ministry to see, I'll be slightly less upset about it." They stopped outside the hall of fireplaces and Draco turned to look at Harry, hands on his hips.

"I'm just trying to help, Potter. And might I add, that binge drinking is incredibly unhealthy for one's health." Harry shrugged. He didn't really care about his health. Now he thought about it, he probably wouldn't really care if he died. That's pretty selfish, he thought. Then he remembered that he had to be associated with people other than himself for it to be selfish, and when he was fairly sure that at two thirty in the morning when he looked around his dimly-lit bedroom, feeling empty inside, the population of the room would be exactly the same as it had been since he moved in. Just him.

"I don't need your disapproval, Malfoy. I have Hermione for that." But he didn't. He didn't have Hermione. He hadn't seen her in months. Nor Ron.

"Good to see Harry still has his usual sass." A voice chimed in from behind them, and they both spun in shock to be greeted with an extremely fierce, smartly dressed Hermione.

"H-hermione!" Harry stuttered, his mind overflowing with thoughts. He mused that if he had tried writing them all down as fast as they came, he would have run out of paper before the first minute was up. He felt anger boil deep in his chest as he looked at her. Her face was lit with a bright smile. She looked positively cheerful; the complete opposite to how Harry felt. He wanted to scream at her. He wanted to know why the fuck it was okay for someone to just turn up like his, all happy and fine, and ignoring his owls for months on end. After ignoring him. He'd thought that they were friends. He might have expected his from Hermione; but definitely not Ron. But now that the war was over, it was clear that they had only kept him around because they needed him. Figures, he sniffed.

Before another thought could slip through his mind, he was pulled into a tight hug by the Gryffindor. He nearly choked on her hair, which she had left out, curled with a mousse potion, and was flying freely in all directions.

"Harry it's been so long! Why haven't you been answering my owls? I would have come to your flat but I didn't know where it was! Every time I sent an owl asking, it would come straight back. I even tried finding you at work, but with my own work, and you being in auror training I haven't even bumped into you by accident! I'm so sorry." The girl squeezed Harry harder, but when she realised that Harry wasn't hugging her back, and simply standing there stiffly, she loosened her arms and took a step back.

"Harry?" She said, eyes worried. Harry glared at her one last time and then took a single step back, stepping into the floo and was washed away with a sweep of green flames.


	11. You Can't Say You've Done Weird Things Until You've Been to a Gay Club With You're Arch Nemisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! So this chapter has a little bit of stuff in it that kind of brushes the topic of depression with Harry, and sadly, that's going to be a little part of the storyline in coming chapters. As a person who has dealt with these things personally, I know how incredibly hard it is, and how hard it is to ask for help. If you ever need to talk, my email is lilithdeniel@outlook.com, and the suicide hotlines are written bellow. No spam please, and stay safe xxx
> 
> US, UK, and AU Lifeline- 13 11 14

Harry arrived at his flat with so much anger he felt like he could punch something. Anything. So he did. He trashed the kitchen first. Pulling the dozens of pots and pans he'd never used out of the shelves and creating such a crash his eardrums shuddered. He moved to the dining room, tipping over as many chairs as he could before throwing himself at the couch. He lay down, exhaustion hitting him the same moment tears pricked his eyes. Something rattled, and then there was a bang from the front of the flat and Harry sat bolt up right. He drew his wand, pointing it at the hall. Something moved and he started.

"Stupefy!" The spell was blocked and followed by the revealing of the intruder.

"Fuck! Malfoy, I could have killed you!" Harry muttered angrily, tossing his wand across the room and collapsing into the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes in an attempt to calm his raging headache. He peeked out to look at the blond who was standing silently at the end of his couch. "Did you just pick my lock?" He wondered suddenly, watching as the blond shrugged, and then delicately perched himself on the arm of the couch.

"Care to explain what that was about?" He nodded to the fireplace where Harry had Floo-ed from, just a few minutes ago.

"Since when do you care about my personal issues?" Harry muttered, pulling himself into a lazy sitting position, rubbing his temple. He met sceptical grey eyes and cursed. "Whatever. And no." He watched the blond fiddle with his wand.

"I'm not leaving until you do. The mudblood practically threw herself at you, and you freaked out. Why?" Harry aimed a kick at the blond's leg, which missed by a mile, and was rewarded with a stinging hex to his arm.

"OW!" Harry hissed, rubbing the pink skin. "And don't call her that." Malfoy crossed his arms.

"Fine." Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hummed a frustrated tune.

"She was lying to my face." He admitted, trying to focus solely on the ball of lint he was picking at on the couch instead of his emotions. Draco had already seen him cry twice. He didn't need to see it again. "She never sent any owls. No one's really spoken to me at all, ever since I broke up with Ginny and came out as gay. Not even George-" The blond blinked.

"So you've not spoken to anyone since months ago?" Harry blushed.

"Unless you want to include you, or the muggle pizza man, then no." The blond fell silent. Harry continued to pick at the ball of lint which was so stubbornly stuck to the couch.

"I'm sorry," said Malfoy suddenly, eyes flickering up to meet Harry's. "That must be pretty lonely." Harry shrugged, trying to pretend like it wasn't really anything. Like it hadn't been destroying him to know that he was of no value to anyone now that the war was over. Not even the people he had thought his friends. Harry watched Draco as he began to grin. "You must come to lunch with Blaise, Pansy and myself sometime!" Harry frowned, wondering if the blond was mocking him.

"You can't be serious. They'd kill me." Draco shrugged.

"Even if they did, it would be more entertaining than sitting here." Harry grinned at this. With that, the blond stood, grabbing Harry by the forearm and tugging him to his feet. Harry allowed the blond to tug him through his own flat and when they stepped into the bedroom, Harry drew to a halt. Draco turned to look at him.

"Malfoy?" Harry questioned, feeling his heart beat rapidly. His mind wondered if what his heart wanted was possible, but a voice in the back of his head answered that. -It wasn't. Draco rolled his eyes and stepped deeper into the room, beckoning for Harry to follow.

"Merlin, Potter, I'm not going to _do_ anything!" Harry felt his heart sink in disappointment at the same moment relief flooded through him. He followed the lithe figure into his walk-in robe and studied the messy room. As he studied the piles of clothes strewn across the floor, he thought he heard Draco mutter something along the lines of, "Unless you want me to." But he didn't get a chance to ask, because the moment he opened his mouth to speak, a smelly Gryffindor-red shirt landed on his head. He pulled the shirt off the same moment another flew into his arms. He peeked over the growing pile in his arms, watching as Draco dug through the piles of clothes, clearly looking for something.

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Uh Malfoy... What are you doing?" Draco didn't look up from his work as he flung a pair of jeans across the room.

"Finding you some decent clothing,  _obviously_. You can't expect me to take you anywhere dressed like that, can you? Honestly, Potter you must be daft." Harry blinked in surprise. 

"Where are we going, exactly?" Harry arched an eyebrow; something he didn't do very often as he considered it a too Malfoy-ish action. For some reason it seemed to bother him a little less tonight. 

"It's a surprise." The syltherin answered bluntly, before turning around with a satisfied smirk on his lips. He held up a pair of uncomfortably tight-looking black jeans, a pale blue tattered t-shirt that Harry had never worn because it's collar hung too low and it showed too much chest, and a leather jacket which he had inherited from Sirius after he'd died. He'd never worn that either, really, as it was more of a momento and a tribute to his godfather. _A tribute which had spent a good portion of it's life hanging in his wardrobe_ , Harry thought ironically. Draco thrust the outfit at Harry, forcing him to drop the pile of unwashed clothes he was already holding, to catch them. A clunky black boot hit his nose and he looked up in rage, grimacing in pain. "Sorry!" Draco cried, tensing at his ill aim. The blond seemed to stop for a moment, then lowered his voice. "Such a wuss, honestly, Potter, harden up." Harry blushed at Draco's convenient choice of words, but the blond didn't seem to notice, as he was too busy turning around and beginning to rummage through clothes again. The blond paused. He turned to glare at Harry.

"What are you still standing here for? Go put them on! It's what they're for!" Harry jumped and broke his stare, rushing into the bathroom. He never thought he'd be getting changed in the bathroom of his own home. He slipped the jeans and the shirt on, grimacing at how much chest it showed. He then slid his feet into the chunky boots Malfoy had thrown at him and studied himself in the mirror. He attempted to tousle his hair into some kind of semblance, but gave up after realising that it would just be swept out of position again by the Winter wind. Harry wondered where on the planet Malfoy could be taking him in an outfit like this. He glanced at Sirius's jacket, hanging on the doorknob to his left. He picked it up, feeling the heavy black texture slide between his fingers. He gave a great sigh, shoulders sagging and threw the jacket over his shoulders. He glanced at his face in the mirror, and then the razors on the sink edge. He didn't need a shave. That much was clear. He'd shaved this morning. And despite this knowledge, he still gazed longingly at the silver blades, glinting menacingly in the bathroom light. He shook his head decisively and stepped towards the door, unlocking it and shutting it behind him. Malfoy was here. He couldn't do that while Malfoy was here. 

 **("A/N: I'm really sorry, but along the way, for some reason a bit of a depression storyline has developed w/ harry, so if you're sensitive to that kind of stuff, or could be triggered** PLEASE DO NOT READ **. We will see more of that in the next coming chapters. Also know that if you're struggling with depression, suicidal thoughts or self harm, I am always here to talk; my email is in my profile description, and I will provide the suicide hotline's numbers also. stay safe lovelies xxx")**

Harry stepped into the hallway and followed the sounds of clashing pots into the kitchen. Malfoy had just finished setting everything at right, and Harry stopped in his tracks as the blond began to stand. Malfoy's hair was loose, and several strands framed his sharp face, a few falling in his eyes. He'd nabbed one of Harry's favourite t-shirts with a muggle band he liked called "Guns N' Roses" written on the front, and a pair of blue jeans that were just that tiny bit too big that they hung off his hips in a way so ridiculously sexy that Harry thought that he might actually come in his pants right there in front of the blond, if that was even possible. Draco in Harry's clothes was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Harry swallowed daftly, throat dry. 

"Next time this happens, Potter, you're cleaning up this mess yourself; I'm not your fucking slave-" The blond's eyes fell on Harry, who was still drooling over Draco's outfit. Harry felt self conscious as Draco's eyes traced down his body. The two took a few moments to realise they'd been staring at each other before Harry finally broke the silence and did a tiny twirl, face almost as red as Draco's.

"So? How do I look?" 

"A-acceptable, Potter." Draco stepped out from behind the island bench, striding past Harry towards the door. Harry turned, trying his best to avert his eyes from the stunning view they begged to feast on. Draco turned to look at him. "Coming?" The blond asked, eyes flashing in a threateningly excited way that made Harry anticipate what exactly his auror partner was planning.  _Definitely later,_  he thought as he followed the blond through the door, spelling it locked behind him, taking Draco's arm, and disapparating with him. They landed in a dimly lit alleyway, somewhere, Harry presumed, in muggle London. Harry looked around, and then realised with a start that he was still holding Draco's arm, and sprung off him with more vigour than he'd meant. He glanced down the alley properly this time, spotting a back door which lead down some stairs. He glanced at Malfoy, who had begun heading towards it without a word. 

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, following. Draco refused to answer as the two stepped into the room bellow, after passing an extremely bulky looking man in a suit at the door. Harry stopped and stared. The throbbing room was packed full of people- mostly men- dancing, grinding, and snogging at different intensities. The room was dark apart from the hundreds of multicoloured lights that spun around in circles from the rafters, pointed at the dance floor, and a string of lights along the few bars lining the back walls. The music literally shook the room; several drinks sitting unguarded at tables, pulsating along with the beat. It took Harry several moments to drag his eyes away from the scene to look to Draco, who was now weaving his way through the crowd of people towards a bar. Harry followed hurriedly, chest tight with anxiety and anticipation. He caught up with the blond, who had now seated himself on a bar stool and already ordered two shots. Harry cautiously perched himself on the stool besides him.

"A club, Malfoy?  _Really_?" Harry shouted over the music. Malfoy chuckled, grey eyes flashing. 

"Correction, Potter; it's a  _gay_  club." Harry shook his head, timidly accepting the small shot glass the blond handed him. Harry's eyes darted all around, eyeing several men who wandered past, many shirtless and chests shining with sweat. He looked back at Malfoy who downed his shot, Adams apple bobbing. The blond gave Harry an encouraging nod towards the dance floor. 

"Go on." The blond gestured to the group of sweaty men. "Have fun. It's what we're here for. To get drunk and forget life for a while." Harry hummed into his glass, eyeing the dark drink.

"And I suppose you come to these kinds of places often, then?" Harry mused, watching the slytherin darken. 

"It's none of your concern what I do with my free time." He said coldly, eyes narrowing. Harry's eyes flickered down to Draco's left forearm, trying to catch a glimpse of the skin beneath the pale t-shirt through the lights. Draco shifted his arm inwards and glowered. "Potter." He said sternly, causing Harry to wince guiltily. "We're here to have a drink, and possibly get a shag. Not to recollect our less than desirable pasts." Harry sighed, placing his drink on the table top.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy-"

"Come on." The blond stood suddenly, a glint of determination in his eyes. He downed a third shot and placed the glass down on the bench with a loud clink. Harry watched as the blond marched head first into the crowd of men. Harry stood up unsurely and proceeded to weave his way carefully through the crowd, following after the few glimpses of white-blond hair he caught every so often. He caught sight of Malfoy, a few feet away, writhing to the music. It was a sight. The stunning lithe body, dancing in the rainbow lights from above, in Harry's clothes. Harry took a step forward, but jumped when a hand clasped around his arm. He glanced behind him and his eyes met that of a brunette man, who's pupils were dilated, and his skin slick with sweat.

"Hey beautiful. Come dance..." Harry took one last glance behind him, and gave a disappointed huff that the blond head he was looking for was now absent from the crowd and allowed the man to pull him back through the hundreds of grinding bodies. Harry's head spun with the volume of the music and the alcohol now rushing through his veins and the brown haired man grinned drunkly. "Dan." He said through shiny white teeth. Harry couldn't deny that the man was attractive. He just wasn't... his type. 

"James." Harry returned quietly, eyeing the man up and down. Harry didn't want to use his real name; he didn't quite have the time to be dealing with the _Prophet_ if word got out that Harry Potter had been frequenting gay clubs in muggle London. Especially with the law suit with Kardon already having full coverage by the magical media. Dan was pressed flush against Harry, whether by choice, or the mere force of the crowd of grinding bodies, he didn't know. 

"You're stunning." Dan breathed into Harry's ear, just loud enough to be heard over the thumping bass of the speakers. Harry blushed and felt hands begin to creep up his side. He forced himself to move; forced his body to dance beneath the lights as the man beside him, or rather  _on_ him, continued his exploration. Harry could feel his nerves slowly creeping away as the normality of this began to sink in. As he began to realise that there couldn't be anything wrong with doing these things if this many people were willing to participate. 

He accepted a blue drink from Dan and gulped it thirstily, coughing slightly as the burning liquid ran down his throat. Dan laughed besides him, spilling his own drink slightly on the floor as he danced against Harry. Harry laughed with him. He felt his head clear, and the things that he'd been worried about before slowly start to slip away. As he danced, he began to familiarise himself with everything. He began to blend in. Before he knew it, he was just another part of the sweaty, dancing, grinding crowd of men, laughing and drinking, and wondering how he could ever be worried about anything when life could be _this good_. 

And then it happened. He had been laughing at a joke Dan had just made about how the waiters all looked so unintentionally sexy in their suits, when he felt hot, liquor-stained lips press against his own. He tensed, and then realised that he wanted this. Malfoy could find his own way home. Tonight was about Harry. Tonight was about forgetting. Even if that meant doing something stupid. 

Harry pressed into the kiss, allowing his instincts to take over. He let his hands roam over the broad shoulders of the man before him, fingers dipping between the crevices. He couldn't tell if his head was spinning from the kiss, or the alcohol, but he knew it felt good, and he wanted more. He pressed against Dan and felt a rush of heat fly through him when he felt something hard pressing against his leg.

"Let's take this back to mine." Dan said huskily, and then pulled Harry through the crowd, towards the doors. Harry's head spun, and a feeling he had been discarding as excitement made his stomach tighten. Suddenly, this didn't seem so fun. And he had no idea why. All he knew was that the hand clasped so tight around his wrist was a little bit too tight right now. That this man was a little too big; a little too intimidating. Harry felt like he was watching from above as he pulled his hand away. The tightening of his gut, the thickening of the air, the thoughts swimming through his head; too cloudy to be real, were all becoming too much. Dan looked back at him, eyes crossed slightly and gave a drunken grin.

"What?" The feeling of dread engulfed Harry, and he turned, disappearing into the crowd. 

Harry hated to run. Maybe it was his Gryffindor instincts telling him to stay back and fight. Or to push through it. But he had to run. He'd been running his whole life. Running from Voldemort. Running from his past. Running from himself. It bemused him that even though he hated running away, so incredibly much, that he always found himself running. He was always the first one to turn away. Always the coward.

Harry stumbled through the crowd, vision blurred, and the only coherent thought that had slipped through his mind since that fourth drink, was the fact that he knew now that he was well and truly drunk. It frightened him; knowing that he was incapable of making good decisions, despite the fact that he was well aware of what was going on. He turned in vicious circles, shoving people out of the way as he went. Just as he was about to conclude that maybe he should just hide out in the restrooms until morning, he spotted that white blond head. Far at the back of the club, where the lights didn't shine, in an area dedicated to snogging, there were couples of men, and a few women, all clinging to their partner like the other's oxygen was their own, and they'd die without it. Harry stopped dead in his tracks- in the centre of the dance floor- as the world seemed to slow. The music blurred, and the people danced and spoke slower. 

Malfoy had a man against the wall, hands pinned above his head, rubbing their crotches together. Harry watched in undisguised envy as the man's head tilted back in bliss as Malfoy attacked his neck, leaving no spans of skin unmarked. Glasses crooked on his face, the man panted, eyes closed as Malfoy traced back up to his mouth, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. That was enough for Harry. He charged towards the two, grabbing at Malfoy's shoulder and prying them apart.

"What the fuck, Malfoy?" Harry tried to shout, but it sounded slurred and disjointed. Harry was furious at his own drunkness; at himself. He was furious at Malfoy, though he didn't know why. It didn't occur to him that the blond hadn't done anything wrong, as he gave him a hard shove, causing Malfoy to bang into the wall. The black-haired man Malfoy had been snogging had slithered off, and Harry grunted. Fucking coward. He went to grab for his wand, anger overtaking him when he felt cool hands grab his wrist.  _These hands weren't like Dan's,_ Harry thought mildly, as he watched Malfoy pull him out of the club in a dream like haze. The anger-torn confusion on the blond's perfect face was something Harry relished in; knowing that he could cause the blond to feel such emotions. Harry could feel himself babbling as Malfoy turned the corner, and pushed Harry down into a gap in the alley between two buildings. Harry grinned as the blond stepped in after him.

"Wanna snog, Malfoy?" The blond ignored him, shoving him off him with such force that Harry's head hit the brick wall a little too hard. He groaned. He lifted his head and watched as Malfoy ran his wand through an intricate pattern, and Harry felt a slight tingle wash over him. For a moment, things felt a little less discombobulated. 

"Potter, you're drunk." Malfoy stated, looking him up and down over the tip of his nose. "Disgustingly so. How much did you drink?" Harry giggled, shrugging. Malfoy waved a hand before his face. "Potter? Do you understand what I'm saying? You're intoxicated." Harry gave a chuckle at the funny word.

"Intoxicated... In... tox... icated." Harry laughed, watching as Malfoy shook his head for unknown reasons. "Hey!" Harry said suddenly. Malfoy look up; he'd been pinching his nose.

"What?" He said sharply. 

"Int... intox..." Harry struggled to get the word out, his tongue feeling heavy and useless in his mouth.

"Intoxicated? Yes, you are." Harry giggled.

" _No_ , silly. Intockisated sounds like 'mated'." Harry felt another rumble of laughter fly through him at the humour of his own words. "You wanna do some mating, Malfoy? I saw you with that guy." He felt a sharp sting across his left cheek and blinked. Malfoy had slapped him. Harry looked at the seething blond silently, shock still fresh in his mind until he felt a grin break his face. Malfoy thew his head back in frustration, growling as Harry began to laugh. 

"Potter, I'm taking you home." Harry felt his heart skip a beat.

"Really, Malfoy? I thought you'd never-"

"Potter!" Malfoy almost shouted, eyes flashing as he grabbed Harry roughly by the shoulders and hauled him out from the alcove and down the alleyway. "Honestly, it's fucking ridiculous." Harry listens as Malfoy mutters things about 'trying to do something nice' and 'ending up having to do chaperone duty'. The streets on either end of the alley were silent, and the few dim lights lining the passage flickered every so often. The world seemed to tilt to a side, and whenever it did, Harry tried to tilt against it. This usually resulted in both Harry and Malfoy toppling to the ground, and Malfoy shouting angry swear words at Harry as he pulled the drunk man back to his feet. 

"If you're so sick of walking, why don't you just apparate?" Harry asked, surprising himself with how incredibly well he'd pronounced his sentence. Draco's reply was barked, and dripping with anger,

" _Because_  I need a few minutes to clear my head Potter, so I can side-along you without one of us loosing an arm!" Harry hummed a tune even he didn't know as they wandered along the alley. "Stop that." Malfoy said, shoving Harry slightly, causing him to stumble. Harry bit back a retort as he ceased his humming, and opted to watching the blond instead as he tugged Harry down the alley. The lights flickered slightly, and Harry felt a cool breeze run past them. He pushed himself up against the warm body besides him as they continued to stumble at a ridiculously slow pace. Harry shivered in the cold. A few lamp posts flickered behind them, and went out. 

"I said stop that!" Malfoy said, letting go and causing Harry to trip backwards, back hitting the screen door to a closed kitchen. Harry felt anger slice through his insides.

"I did!" He shouted, glowering as the blond looked down at his empty palms. Harry's wand was still in his back pocket. Harry glared at the blond as he looked up and down the alleyway. "I can't believe you, Malfoy! You think you can just boss everyone around! Well you can't! 'Ooh, look at me, I'm Draco Malfoy and I like to boss people around blah blah blah!' Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse-"

"Shut up, Potter." Malfoy's voice was low, dangerous. Harry let out a drunken shout, voice breaking.

"See?! Always telling me what I can and can't-"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Malfoy said, lunging and throwing a hand over Harry's mouth. Harry felt a slight sense of deja vu rush through him as he stared in shock at the blond, who was now glancing wildly up and down the alley, eyes squinting. Harry turned his head, watching as Malfoy did, as several more lamp posts flickered out. Harry felt himself shudder as another intense feeling of cold whipped through the alley. 

"What's going on..." He whispered against Malfoy's hand, eyes wide. And then it hit him. The familiar feeling that he'd been wallowing in since the end of the war. The same feeling that came and went. The same feeling that was worse some days that others. The feeling he'd gone to that goddamned club to forget. Except right now, in this moment; it felt almost a hundred times worse as he watched all the colour drain from his auror partner's face. Harry felt his bones grow weak and succumb to the pressure being put on them. He collapsed against the wall, eyes scanning the alley not nearly as fast as he'd liked them to as he fumbled for his wand. He felt his drunk mind struggling to process what he had to do. He glanced up from his shaking hands and was greeted by a sight he'd hoped he would never have to see again. 

"S-shit." He breathed, fatigue rushing through him. He could feel the weight of his emotions pushing down on his shoulders. He could hear the screaming as the one's he loved died. He could see their face's as the light left their eyes. He could see Malfoy, dead, and lying beneath him. Two black cloaked figures were making their way towards the two wizards through the pitch black alleyway. He finally felt his wand fall into his hands and then almost screamed in frustration when it slipped through his numb fingers and clattered onto the floor, completely useless now it was lost in the darkness. Harry glanced up, eyes wide as the dementors closed in, and the all too-familiar feeling that he'd never be happy again engulfed him as he felt the last bit of fight leave him. 

And then there was light. So much light, making the alleyway white as the dementers retreated, fleeing from the patronus. Harry's eyes widened as he looked up, finding Malfoy panting, covered in sweat, and wand still pointed. A ferret of light bounced back towards them, circling Malfoy once, and then disappearing back into his wand. Harry gaped, feeling his body screaming as pain slowly seeped in, as he finally realised how hard he'd hit his head as he'd collapsed against the wall. Malfoy took a deep breath, lowered his wand and looked directly at Harry.

"Let's get you home, Potter."

They stumbled through Harry's front door with a crash, and Harry looked down in mild amusement at the umbrella he'd never used which was now lying on the floor, having been kicked out of the way upon their entrance. Harry shrugged out of Sirius's jacket, scrunching up his nose at the smell of booze and smoke now staining it. He pulled his shirt over his head, leaving it in the hallway, and toed off his shoes in the bedroom. He chucked off his glasses somewhere along the way and slid into his bed, relishing in the feeling of clean sheets against his skin, and taking no care to notice Draco, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

"I still can't believe your patronus is a ferret." Harry murmurs, snuggling deeper into his blankets, eyes closed and drowsiness clouding his mind. He feels the tips of his mouth turn up as he hears Malfoy scowl. There's a silence, and Harry presume's Malfoy's left when he hears the sound of movement from the doorway. There's a quiet step, and then silence. Harry wonders what Draco could be contemplating. 

"I'm just going to go, then." Malfoy says quietly. "Goodnight, Potter." Harry hears footsteps fade down the hallway and his eyes fly open.

"Malfoy, wait!" The footsteps stop. 

"What?" Malfoy breaths.

"There's chocolate in the cupboard. It'll make you feel better." Harry heard a movement and then,

"Okay, Potter." Harry heard Draco begin to walk again, and called out again.

" _What_?" The blond's annoyance was clear as the footsteps ceased, once again.

"...Thank you, Draco." There's a pause, and then he hears a deep sigh.

"You're welcome, Harry." And Harry's asleep before he hears the door shut as the blond makes his way out.

 

 

 


	12. Memories and Unresolved Resolutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I've uploaded. I've been super busy with Christmas and the New Year, and writing isn't a big priority for me at the moment. Although, I am considering starting a new fic soon...  
> Anyways, enjoy, and as always, please leave constructive criticism and ideas in the comments section. Also, if you have a request for how you think the story should go, I'll be willing to consider them if you pop them down in the comments section too! Enjoy :D

The cliche of a pounding head, sick stomach and sensitivity to light didn't sound even half as bad as how Harry was feeling when he woke up the following morning. His hangover had hit him hard in the early hours of the AM, and the struggle of leaving his bed had started to seem pointless. His head spun worse than the night before and when the memories came rushing back from last night, he felt a vein throb in the corner of his temple. He dressed in silence, head tilting to the side a bit to combat his dizziness as he threw on a pair of green robes, not even bothering to wonder why he'd bought clothes in such a Slytherin colour.

By the time he'd managed to floo to the correct fireplace in the Ministry, and grabbed a hangover potion and a coffee from Diagon Alley, Harry's nausea was already creeping in again. The headache had eased, but the hangover potion had done nothing to help Harry understand what had happened last night. Did he seriously go to a gay club with Draco Malfoy? Did they really get attacked by dementors or had Harry just imagined it because, well, the thought of a flying ferret was already humorous enough when sober. Harry figured he had just enough time to do some office work for an hour, or rather, clear his head by staring at the wall, and so he began heading towards the Auror Offices. It was of no surprise when he ran into Draco, in fact Harry had rather expected it considering he was finding the blond increasingly harder and harder to avoid.

"Potter." Malfoy stated simply, falling into step as Harry stepped into his office.

"Malfoy." Harry shot back, face burning from the memories of last night's events. Merlin, he'd been so drunk. The blond took a deep breath, standing tall and squaring his shoulders as Harry collapsed into his chair, which squeaked in protest.

"About last night-"

"Listen, Draco, I'm so sorry you had to put up with that, it was irresponsible of me; I was so drunk." Harry rattled off, genuinely afraid of the blond's answer. Was he going to confront him about what Harry had said? About Harry asking him to snog?

"Potter, I agree with all of those things; you were incredibly drunk. But I couldn't care less how often or by what degree you get wasted, as long as its not me who is left to deal with you on the way home, when you're acting like you've been Confunded." Harry winced, eyes tracing up the blond's lithe body. He wore pale grey robes and Harry felt disappointed to know that Draco was no longer wearing his clothes. It was to be expected, really. He wasn't going to wear Harry's clothes to work. Harry discreetly shifted himself in his seat at the thought.

"Regardless," Malfoy continued, crossing his arms and looking stern, "I'd like to inquire as to why there were a pair of dementors in Muggle London, wouldn't you, Potter?" The memory of Malfoy, sweaty, powerful and radiating magic floated before Harry's eyes, and he realised he was beginning to regret last night more and more.

"Yes, shit, Malfoy I hadn't even got so far as to think that." The blond shrugged and glanced idly around the unorganised room.

"The second part of the trial starts at four; Shacklebolt wanted me to tell you." And with that, the blond turned and stepped out of the office, taking his professional tone with him. Harry groaned, throwing his head in his hands. How in the name of Merlin was he going to win this case today? It had proved difficult enough the day prior, and now he had to do it hungover? And distracted, he glanced towards the door where Malfoy had left.

Harry floated through the day, sporting a raging headache, and tending to many necessities that had been calling for his attention for longer than probably economical. It was an hour before the trail began, and Harry was currently sitting in a claustrophobic office, across a table from the Minister for Magic.

"Minister, I saw them. Malfoy saw them." Harry pressed, feeling ridiculous as he continued trying to convince the minister of what he'd seen the night before.

"While both under the influence of alcohol." Harry sagged into his chair, heaving a sigh of recognition.

"Couldn't we supply memories?..." Harry attempted, gesturing limply to the waiting Pensieve in the corner of the office; prepared for the trial.

"Memories don't appear coherent in a Pensieve if one was intoxicated at the time. You know this, Potter."

"Can't we just try-"

"POTTER! There are no Dementors in London, let alone Muggle London! They were all dismissed by the ministry, and they were all sent to Sudan! You know this." Harry heaved a sigh. What the Minister said was true; after the end of the war, all Dementors had been seised from Azkaban, and banished to a Wizarding national reserve in South Sudan. "It is an insult that you would believe such things are possible, right under my nose, Potter. I would appreciate it if you speak less of this. Do I make myself clear?" Harry clenched his jaw, wondering how he was going to tell Malfoy that he had simply cowered underneath Kingsley's glare.

"Yes, Minister." The large man nodded and waved a hand in dismissal as Harry began to stand.

"I'll see you in an hour." Harry nodded grimly and stepped outside. As he made his way through the Atrium, something tickled at his thoughts. A memory, or a phrase; he couldn't quite determine which. Interesting creatures, Dementors. He sorted through his memories, starting from the early hours of the day, to weeks ago. He briefly brushed over yesterday's trial, discarding the memories in an attempt to block them out. Puzzled, frustrated, and anxious, Harry didn't notice the figure poised out the front of his office until he almost barrelled into it. He scolded himself for his clumsiness and looked up.

"Harry!" Hermione said, stepping aside as Harry opened his office door, standing in the doorway. "I need to talk to you." Harry grunted, beginning to close the door over. "Harry, please." She said, sticking a hand out to stop it.

"Hermione, I don't really have the time to-"

"Harry, please. All that I ask is that you listen." Harry heaved a great sigh, wondering how he wound himself into this mess, and then stood aside, allowing the bushy-haired witch to step into his office. Harry walked around the desk and lent against the wall, rather than sitting; he felt too skittish to sit. Hermione planted herself in the seat opposite the desk and glanced around anxiously. She stared at Harry's bare walls, and the hundreds of piles of paper scattering the floor. She glanced up, meeting Harry's eyes. She breathed deeply.

"So, how are you?" She said anxiously, eyes gesturing to the obvious mess that deeply reflected how Harry felt on the inside right about now. Harry arched an angry eyebrow, and then extinguished the action before he'd even finished raising it. Damn you, Malfoy, he thought.

"You haven't spoken to me for eight months, Hermione; and the first thing you do is ask how I am?" She ducked her head, eyes dull.

"I admit; I am a little lost for what to say. I'm terribly sorry. For everything." Harry merely grunted once again, shifting his arms so they crossed over his body protectively. "Harry, what I did after what happened; it wasn't fair. It wasn't right of me." Harry shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance. "I've missed you." She offered, eyes hopeful.

"I'm sure you have." Harry spat, feeling guilty for being so bitter. He was hit with a pang of self loathing when he evaluated his emotions. If anyone should be feeling guilty, it should be her. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I was shocked, Harry. I didn't know what to say-"

"So you ignored me for eight months?" Harry concluded, eyes fiery and chest tight. He could feel his temper rising with her every attempt at an excuse.

"Harry I didn't mean for it to happen that way, I just-"

"What did you mean to happen, Hermione? What did you expect?" Harry tried again and again to contain his anger, but with one spark, Hermione had ignited a raging fire within him that he had been doing his best to suppress over the last eight months. He felt the anger which had built up for months; the despair, the loneliness, the feelings of self-hatred and not having any self worth, all begin to pour out.

"Harry, please just listen; I just needed time to adjust-"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realise it would have been such a big shock for you. If I had I would have just kept it to myself!" Harry threw his arms in the air angrily, shoulders tensing.

"Harry, it was a shock for everyone. Ron and Molly; they both still thought you were going to marry Ginny one day!" Harry felt his face contort in disgust.

"Yeah, well sorry, but she wasn't my type." Hermione stood, eyes looking tired.

"Harry, I don't care what your type is; you could want to marry a Blast-Ended Skrewt for all I care! You're still my best friend." She took a step towards him.

"I don't think it counts as friendship if you ignore someone for an extended period of time, just because of a personal preference." Harry said bitterly, moving away from her with purpose. Hermione sighed, pinching her nose. "I just thought-" Harry faltered. "That after everything we'd been through, something as simple as who I want to be with wouldn't cause so much craze." He started pinching the skin on his hand in an attempt to calm his racing thoughts.

"Harry, I didn't realise how hurt you were-" Harry felt his anger overflow, and he fully gave in to it, grateful to finally be feeling something after weeks of being numb. He revelled in the ability to feel something without having anything to lose from it. He had nothing to lose now. He'd already lost his friends. He'd already lost everything.

"WELL IT MAKES SENSE, DOESN'T IT? If you leave someone alone for over HALF A YEAR, THEY'RE PROBABLY GOING TO THINK YOU HATE THEM!" Harry could feel his shouts echoing through the room, and hope that the walls were thick enough for no one else to hear his rant.

"I don't hate you, Harry-"

"OF COURSE NOT! I'M NOT EVEN WORTH THAT MUCH! NOT EVEN WORTH THE EFFORT TO EVEN FUCKING SEND A SINGLE OWL, SAYING, 'Hey, Harry, sorry, we just needed time to process that you've come out. Want to go out for lunch on Friday to talk about it?'!" Harry watched as Hermione reared, making herself smaller as Harry spoke. "No; I'm just a useless queer." Hermione took a tiny intake of breath at Harry's muttered remark.

"Harry, is this about the case with Kardon, because if it is-"

"No, Hermione, IT'S ABOUT FRIENDS WHO KICK EACH OTHER TO THE CURB FOR NO REASON!" Hermione snapped, taking a vicious step forwards.

"LISTEN, HARRY. I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN, OKAY? YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY PERSON TRYING TO GET OVER THE WAR! I had to go to Australia to find my parents, and with Ron proposing, it's been-"

"Ron proposed?" Harry whispered, feeling his heart clench.

"Yes, but that's irrelevant-" Harry felt his head explode for the second time in the last few minutes.

"Of course he fucking proposed. Am I even invited to the wedding?" Hermione was beginning to shake, her eyes becoming watery.

"Of course you are, Harry. In fact, Ron-." She stopped, clearly wondering if she should tell him. "Ron wanted you to be his best man." Harry felt a twinge of something other than anger as Hermione said this.

"He did?"

"Yes, of course! Harry, we haven't forgotten about you. We love you; you're our best friend. You're my best friend! I thought you knew that." Harry felt his heart keen at the words, and a battle was playing out in his mind. (Forgive them, and move on. Hold the grudge, and feel worse than he did already.) "This is not how I wanted this to go." Hermione muttered, collapsing into her chair again, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes.

"Listen," She started. "I am truly sorry, Harry. There is no excuse for what I've done. I understand if you don't forgive me. I just wanted to let you know that I still love you, and you're still my friend." She stood, circling the desk and walking towards the door. Harry thought he saw her wipe a tear. "Good luck at the trial." She said, reaching for the door.

Harry groaned inwardly as his mind fought itself.

"Hermione, wait." She stopped, glancing over her shoulder, eyes glassy. "I'm sorry too." She turned, wrapping her arms around herself. "I did some things I regret. I didn't mean to-" Harry glanced down. "I'm sorry. I forgive you." Hermione beamed, her face practically glowing as she flung herself at Harry and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Harry hugged her back, his heart practically singing at the thought that he might have friends again. And maybe even family. Hermione pulled away, wiping her eyes and grinning up at him.

"You've got a trial to go to." She said, suddenly so much like the old her Harry had missed. He glanced at the clock in the corner of the room and started. The trial started in two minutes. He pulled her in for one more quick hug before turning to the door. Hermione followed.

"How about you come to ours for dinner on Saturday? I'll owl you. Ron'll be thrilled." Harry grinned, locking his door behind him.

"Definitely." He took a step, and then felt fingers close around his wrist.

"Harry..." He met her deep brown eyes. "Be safe." She pulled him into a final hug, and then began hurrying down the hallway, back towards the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Harry watched her go, and then stumbled through the Ministry towards the court room.


	13. The Boy Who Defeated Lord Voldemort But Will Probably Die A Painful Death Due To A Fucking Trial

Harry stepped into the courtroom, eyes wide as he observed the number of people packed into the tiny room. The viewing box above the court, which had been only sporting a few reporters the previous day, was now packed beyond bursting point with witches and wizards, and hundreds of reporters. A wizard dressed in robes with  _The Prophet_  written across them had pushed his way to the front of the box, and was staring down at the court, whispering urgently to his  _Quick Quote Quill_ with a look of genuine interest on his face. Harry ducked past the jury and slid into his seat next to Draco, who had already started shuffling about papers on the desk.

"Hey." Harry said, glancing at the blond when all the response Harry got was a muffled grunt. At the corner of Malfoy's desk, surrounded by many menacingly blinking protective charms were three glass vials, each filled with a long silver strand that shone in the dull lighting of the room.

"Are those?..."

"My memories, yes, Potter, well done." The bitter sarcasm hit Harry hard and he felt himself slide back on his chair slightly. Harry wondered if he'd ever see the tiny glimpse he'd seen of Draco last night again.  _The real Draco_ , Harry decided. The determined, caring one, who didn't mind having a good time. The one who took risks, and laughed, and  _smiled_ , and danced much too slow for the energetic beat of the music everyone else was following.

Harry was reminiscing silently as he sat studying the wooden desk before him, when three glass vials were shoved under his nose. He took them gingerly and glanced at Malfoy who looked at him expectantly. Harry glanced around at the packed courtroom once again, eyes wide as he realised what Malfoy was expecting.

"I can't do that here!" He hissed, moving closer as his whispers caught the attention of a few witches nearby.

"Yes you can." The blond insisted firmly, shoving the vials back into Harry's hands after they had been thrust at him. Harry caught sight of the Minister entering the room in the corner of his eye and he began to panic. He felt his heart speed up as he started to shake his head.

"Malfoy, no. Why didn't you tell me we'd need them at the very start?" The slytherin shrugged, folding his arms so Harry couldn't give the vials back.

"I assumed you knew." Harry opened his mouth to reply but then shut it again with a click. He sighed deeply, and then stood, his chair scraping against the wooden floors horridly. They both flinched as the hushed whispering around them seized suddenly.

"I'll be back." Harry muttered, grabbing the vials and turning away, weaving his way out of the room and down the hall towards the loo. He turned at hurried footsteps behind him and was met with Malfoy's unimpressed face.

"It's unsafe to remove memories without supervision, Potter. Even the most advanced wizards have obtained serious injury and loss of memory due to doing it without assistance." Harry stared in shock as Malfoy stood before him. Draco was honestly...  _concerned_ about Harry's wellbeing? "Honestly, Potter, are you daft?" Harry grinned, turning and beckoning for Malfoy to follow.

"Apparently I am." They slipped into the men's, locking the door behind them and distancing themselves as well as they could in a room as smelly and crammed as a Ministry bathroom. Harry set the vials on the bench top and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second in an attempt to calm his mind.

"When you're ready." Malfoy chided coolly from the other side of the room. Harry's heart sped up as thousands of thoughts began to swim through his head. His stomach began to churn at the realisation that the whole wizarding world was about to know everything about his private life, and then his thoughts slowly began to lead from one to another. Snippets of the past flashed past his eyes and his vision started to fade. Heart slamming in his chest, Harry allowed himself to slide downwards. He heard echoes but couldn't process anything. He saw moments from the war in his eyes, flashes of death, blood, loss, and despair. Destruction everywhere he turned. And it was all because of him. 

"Potter?" A hand waved before his eyes and Harry attempted to drag his mind out of the crashing waves for a moment long enough to respond, but the best he could do was drag his eyes up to meet the worried grey ones above him. He felt his eyes slide in and out of focus as his ears began to ring. "Potter." The repeated sound of his name slowly began to seep through his ears, and he mused timidly that his thoughts seemed to almost be  _bouncing_  around in his brain. Everything frightened Harry at this moment. Everything was a threat. Being at his weakest- the weakest he had ever been- he was weakest when his mind was broken. 

Suddenly something cool and smooth was pressed against his cheek. Harry dragged his mind the best he could back to reality to meet Draco's eye again. A pale hand was pressed to his cheek and grey eyes were mere centimetres from his own. "Harry." The gentle use of his name and the calm presence of the person before him was enough to slow Harry's erratic heart beat considerably. He took a great, steadying breath and felt his face heat as he realised what happened. Harry watched Draco back away when he noticed the fear in Harry's eyes subside, and the blond stood, brushing himself off. Harry took another heaving breath, eyes watering as he dragged his sleeves worriedly over them. He pulled himself up on the basin and stared at the sink, avoiding Draco's piercing stare.

"Sorry." He muttered. Glaring at himself in the mirror, his pleasant mood from his resolution with Hermione diminished, Harry pulled his wand from his robe, and placed the tip to side of this temple. He felt cool fingers wrap around his wrist, tugging his hand away from his head.

"Potter, wait." Harry's eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing slowed. "Clear your mind." Harry's chest rose in a sigh, and he mentally swept what clutter he could from his head. He placed the tip of his wand to his head again and felt relief sweep through him as he fished the memories from his head. The moment he dropped the silvery substance into one of the vials, the memory from the day he had returned to the ministry grew foggy. The details from the day, like who was there, and what had happened were still fresh in his mind, thanks to spending hours reviewing the memory. But the rest was gone; now taking the form of a long strand of silk encased in glass, perched on the porcelain bench top before him.

Harry's eyes flickered open for a moment, and they caught a glimpse of grey in the mirror's reflection. Harry watched in fascination as Draco's pupils dilated when they met his, and he mused at how the blond's hand was still gently resting atop his. Harry lifted his wand to his head once again, pulling from it the thoughts that had troubled him for days now; some, months. He sighed in relief as his mind was emptied, almost finding it humorous that the most relief he receives from his own mind in years is caused by the  _physical_  removal of the many thoughts battling in his mind for dominance everyday.

He removed the final memory, mind hyper with angst as he placed it in the remaining vial.

"Happy?" Harry asked as Draco removed his hand from over his. Harry immediately missed the warmth, but suppressed the obscene urge to grab the blond's hand once again.

"Hardly. I was rather hoping that you'd give yourself amnesia. Might help with that pesky hero complex." Harry grinned, trying his best, and failing miserably to make his response sound sarcastic,

"Ha, funny. Very funny, Malfoy."

"You think I'm joking?" Draco quips, eyes twinkling as they step out of the bathroom together and into the hallway. Several witches and wizards milling around shoot each other strange looks at the sight of the two men stepping out of the bathrooms in partnership, but before Harry can even so much as worry his bottom lip, Draco is hurrying back towards the court room, beckoning for him to follow.

They slide into the court, rushing quietly to their seats, footsteps echoing in the now silent room. The entire room was seated, waiting for them. Harry nodded a look of apology to the minister, brandishing his memories slightly, and then looked to his left, across Malfoy, spotting Kardon and his team sitting smugly. Harry wondered, as he began to chew on his lip, why they were looking so confident.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. Good of you to join us." Kingsley frowned over his agenda. He glanced down at his sheet and stood; the court stood with him. "Recommence of the Accusatory hearing of the third of April, into offences committed under the Decree for the Well-being and Treatment of Wizarding Citizens by Mason Theodore Kardon. Interrogators: Kinglsey Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic; William Morrison, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dionysius Floella, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Norbert Pip." Harry's shoulders, already tense, tightened further as he felt Kardon's eyes burn into the side of his head. "Sit." Kingsley commanded, and the room sat in sullen silence. 

Harry caught himself meeting Kardon's glare from across the court, scowled and turned away, firmly forcing his eyes to remain trained on the Minister.

"Yesterday, the second of April,  Mr. Potter; Accusatory, and Mr. Malfoy; cleared Death Eater and supporting Accusatory, have volunteered to supply their memories of the event to the Ministry. Do you still agree to follow through, Mr. Potter?" Harry hesitated, glancing down at his memories on the desk. He swallowed.

"Yes, Minister." The Minister then nodded towards a tall Auror standing unnoticed in the corner of the room, next to what appeared to be a very large pensieve, surrounded by several protective and privacy charms. The wizard approached Harry, giving a respectful nod and holding his wand out for the memories. Harry nodded, and the six vials floated off the desk and towards the pensieve. Malfoy stood suddenly, looking Harry directing in the eye as the Auror startled. 

"I'd like to go first," Draco turned to the Minster. "If that suits you, of course, Minister." Kingsley nodded.

"Very well." Draco remained standing as the dull hum of the reporters began to rise again with the tension in the room. The Auror carefully opened one of Malfoy's memories, and Harry watched the blond visibly wince as the silver lace was placed in the bowl. 

Sounds began to grow muffled, and Harry, alike everyone else in the court began to look around, confused. And then he was lying on the ground, alone, eyes wide and heart beating much too fast. He could feel the cool press of sand beneath his back as he skidded backwards, feet slipping, and hands scrambling to find his wand. But this wasn't him, Harry realised. This was Malfoy. This was the night of the boggart attack. 

Harry felt hot tears begin sliding down Malfoy's cheeks, and he felt his- no: Malfoy's, heart constrict in a shudder of pain and hurt. Harry reeled as he finally noticed the hollering shape before him, standing tall and fearsome, aggressively shaking its arms around. Had he been in control of his own body at the time, he would have shuddered in horror when he realised who it was.

"You're a Death Eater, Malfoy! Your stupid excuse about not being one anymore is useless! We all know the truth!" Harry watched himself gesture around wildly. He felt like he was looking into a twisted mirror. A mirror which showed a side to himself that didn't exist. "We all know who you really are. We all know that on the inside, you really are evil!" Harry felt Draco shake his head in an attempt to argue, blubbering slightly as his heart threatened to jump out his throat, along with his dinner. 

"You're pathetic, Malfoy. No one will ever love you. No one. Including me." A sudden curse from his left hit Harry's double square in the gut, and the boggart shivered, before shrinking to the ground and sliding off among the sand. Draco's eyes flashed from an overwhelmed Moorish to a very naked Harry. Harry felt Draco's cheeks heat and heart skip a beat at the sight of him, tears still streaming down his face as he looked away hurriedly. Harry could hear his own and Moorish's voices vaguely in the background as Draco pushed himself hurriedly to his feet, but couldn't make out the words, because Draco wasn't listening to them. He stumbled into the thick bush lining the beach as Harry's vision began to fade as the memory ended. Finally, Draco took one glance behind him, eyes landing on Kardon wandering up the beach, looking intimidating, a betraying smirk on his face, before turning and fleeing. 

The memory ended, and the courtroom slowly slid back into focus. Harry glanced at Draco, eyes wide when he saw the blond's eyes were red and shining, but before he could reach out, his vision was stolen again, and he, alike everybody else in the room, was swept back into Draco's memories. 

His surroundings leaked into place like ink on parchment, settling into the dark form of The Department of Law Enforcement's main halls. Draco was walking towards the briefing room with determination and a scowl on his face that was there more by default than an indication to any other emotion. The blond was clearly lost in thought when the words 'Imperio' slipped through his consciousness. He turned, looking back along the halls to see a crowd forming in the lift foyer. Purely out of curiosity as to why he was hearing an unforgivable curse, he approached the crowd, peering through the walls of people. Two figures had just exited the lifts and were now in the centre of the foyer. Kardon had his wand out, and was standing over another, crumbled, figure. Potter. Bloody fucking hell that man can't go anywhere these days.

Potter stood, eyes vacant as he swayed slightly. Kardon looked around smugly, clearly proud that he could dominate the other man so easily. Shameless, really. Potter was already weakened from training. Kardon's eyes lay on Malfoy and the blond stepped back slightly, attempting to sink back into the crowd. 

"Ah, Malfoy!" The crowd shuffled and Draco sighed internally as he was pushed into the clearing in the foyer. "We were just looking for you. Harry here wanted to tell you something." Draco took a calculated step forward, watching Harry's mouth move wordlessly as his eyes turned a foggy white. Draco balled his hands into fists. Potter seemed to be struggling, and it was clear he didn't have the strength right now to fight the curse, as he had back in school. 

"Draco-" His eyes cleared for a moment before his voice dropped again, and in an almost monotone sound, Potter says, "Malfoy, I want to fuck you." The crowd gasped and Kardon let out a satisfied scoff. Draco's fingertips slid into his pocket, tugging his wand out inch by inch, disguising it with the sleeve of his suit. Potter looks utterly miserable, "I'm a fa-" As Kardon let out a laugh mid-sentence, Draco took this moment to pounce; shooting an expulso so powerful both Kardon and his wand are thrown backwards into the wall. Unconcerned about the groaning auror now clutching his arm, Draco hurried to Potter's side as the raven-haired man dropped to his knees, eyes swelling shut. Potter you fucking idiot. 

Harry's thrown back out of the memory a second time, eyes wide and heart beating. Despite knowing that that's all the evidence they need to win this case, his eyes still water after rewatching that memory from another perspective. He glances across at Draco who is sitting rigidly in his seat, staring at the desk before him. Harry glares across him at Kardon for a moment, before his surroundings melt a final time. 

Harry blinked in confusion as the courtroom simmered back again, and he glanced around, wondering what had happened to Draco's final memory. He then noticed that he was wearing robes of an unusually high quality. He usually still just went to Madam Malkin's for his robes, and he knew for a fact that she didn't sell robes as expensive as these in her store. He heard voices from a few feet away, and felt himself look up, an inquiring expression on his face. He would have jumped if he could, when he saw himself standing a few feet away, eyes tired and looking worn and irritated. This was the third memory. 

Kardon slapped a hand down on his -Harry's- shoulder in a faux-friendly way. 

"Look who it is. Potter." Harry felt Draco's muscles tense as he watched the scene unfold. He felt Draco's hand into robes and grasp the smooth wood of his wand in his pocket. Harry stepped in front of Draco, and Harry felt the blond puff his chest out slightly at the act of protectiveness. It was clear that Malfoy thought he didn't need to be protected. Draco took a step to the side. 

"Kardon." Harry watched himself spit back a forced acknowledgement. "How's Azkaban looking? Nice? I hear they've taken the Dementors away. Shame." Harry felt a hum of anger begin vibrating in the back of Malfoy's throat as Kardon gave a humourless laugh and took a step closer to the two. 

"Haven't been, actually." The man claimed. "They have no proof that your little claims are true, so they can't imprison me." Harry felt Draco grip his wand tighter.

"Don't worry, you'll be there soon enough." Harry answered. Draco watched Harry relax slightly as Kardon hummed and turned away. The two both tensed again when he stopped, and turned again to look Harry directly in the eye.

"Interesting creatures, Dementors." 

The memory swirled to an end and Harry could finally feel the cool wood of his chair beneath him. He stood, eyes wide with rage, and fuelled by the sudden answer to the question that had been bugging him all morning. He pointed an accusing finger at Kardon, who appeared to just be finishing the final memory too.

"You fucking son of a-" Harry balled his fists as he shoved his chair back, ignoring the loud bang it caused as it clattered to the floor, and made a lunge for Kardon, who's eyes were wide, but with entertainment, not fear. Harry almost roared in rage when he felt cool fingers quickly catch around his wrist. 

"Harry-" Draco warned quietly, voice echoing in the near-silent court as he gave a firm tug. Kardon let out a snicker over the sounds of the hundreds of cameras flashing and quills scratching parchment, catching it as a cough as Kinglsey glared down at him.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUCKING FUNNY, YOU-"

"Harry, stop-"

"ORDER!" Kingsley boomed, eyes wide, but anger clearly contained. "Mr. Potter, your earlier inquiry about a Dementor; do you believe that-"

"That Kardon bloody sent two of them after me and Malfoy-"

"Mr. Potter!" Kingsley warned. Harry took a deep breath, throwing Draco off his arm and moving to stand before his desk.

"Apologies, Minister, Jury. But yes, I do indeed believe that Mr. Kardon," Harry spat the name, eyes sliding over to the opposing desk. "somehow;  _I don't know how_ , sent two Dementors after myself and Mr. Malfoy last night."

"That's bullshit!" Kardon suddenly roared, standing in a flurry. His lawyer stood two, gesturing discreetly to himself. Kardon glared at the man but backed down slightly. 

"My client objects to all claims." The man stated, looking up at Kingsley, tiny betraying eyes confident. 

"Enough." Kingsley stood. Harry took a step back, glancing up at the stands and glaring at the press. It didn't stop their urgent whispering. "Mr Potter, whether your claims be correct or not, you have no evidence. Therefore the ministry cannot charge Mr Kardon for your claims." Harry spun in fury when Kardon let out another snicker. " _However_ ," Kingsley continued, "Mr Malfoy's memories prove useful offence, and the jury would like to further investigate this case. Mr Potter, your memories are no longer required." Harry felt a tension in his chest release, and he let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "But we ask that both yourself, and Mr Malfoy be subject to questioning under the influence of Veritaserum, as previously volunteered by Mr Malfoy. As it is against Ministry Law to use such potions on an unwilling applicant, we must verify that yourself and Mr Malfoy agree to the terms and conditions of the application," Kingsley gestured to his left, where a stout which conjured two pages of parchment and levitated each into Harry and Draco's hands, and continued, "and we would like to clarify with the press," he said firmly, "that Mr Kardon will  _not_  be trialled under such potions." 

Harry stared down at the parchment as the press began to buzz again. He wandlessly summoned his quill, signed the page without reading it, and levitated it back to the witch. He watched Draco do the same, lip snagged between his teeth. 

"Mr Potter please return to your seat." Surprised, Harry realised he was still standing before the minister. He made his way back to the bench, and sat besides Draco, who didn't so much as glance his way. 

The questioning went well enough, and it was late afternoon by the time Harry was released back into the Ministry's hallways from the questioning room. After hours of intensive questioning from the Ministry and the Jury, and almost a whole vial of Veritaserum, Harry was exhausted, and could barely stand the thought of the press, as he stepped through the door on his way out. Luckily, the halls were surprisingly empty; the only occupants being a few persistent reporters for  _The Prophet_ , and Draco sitting in opposite lounges across the hall from each other. At the sight of Harry, the reporters jumped to their feet, shooting Draco dirty looks and rushing to Harry's side.

"Mr Potter, any developments in the case?"

"Mr Potter, how are you feeling about Mr Kardon's accusations?" Harry let out a muffled sigh, staring directly at the reporter closest to him as he replied,

"Surely, you cannot be so incredibly desperate for my answer that you would wait- what-  _six hours_? to get your scoop, sir? Wouldn't you much rather hear Mr Malfoy's perspective?" The reporters turned and glared at Draco again, who had stood now, and was walking towards Harry with intent. 

"We already tried, Mr Potter." Harry grinned at the looks of fear on their faces as the blond pushed through the small huddle, taking Harry by the wrist and tugging him away. 

"Nice speaking to you." Harry called sarcastically as they hung back, pacing anxiously, glancing after them. " _What did you say to them_?" Harry whispered urgently as he turned and fell into step alongside Draco. The blond shrugged, eyes glinting slightly.

"Oh, just something about them being the next ones I was going to sue if they didn't leave me alone. If they had a shred of intelligence in their brains, they would know there's a law against suing press, but I guess..." The blond trailed off with a careless wave of his left hand. "How'd it go?" He asked, not looking at Harry as he unwarded his office and stepped inside, beckoning for Harry to follow. 

"Okay." Harry scrunched up his nose as he sat heavily into the seat across from Draco's desk. Instead of taking the seat behind the desk, Draco sat in the second guest seat beside Harry, leaning back and finally looking at him with those icy eyes. "Kingsley said to be back in half an hour." Harry grinned sheepishly, rolling his neck and rubbing his eyes. "I still can't lie." Draco scoffed, conjuring a flask and two glasses onto the desk. "I swear, after this is all over I'm going straight home. I'm dog tired." Harry watched the blond poor them two glasses of brown liquid. "Tea again, Malfoy? You should talk to someone about this obsession; it's really quite unhealthy." Draco rolled his eyes, a tiny smile on the corner of his lips.

"Shut it, Potter; it's whiskey." Harry grinned, accepting the glass and promptly taking a sip, eyes sliding shut in bliss.

"That's more like it." He opened his eyes again and watched Draco take a sip, their eyes locking for a moment. Harry looked away, placing his glass back on the table and sliding down on his chair slightly. "We really shouldn't be drinking in the workplace, though... Hermione wouldn't approve." He grinned, imagining the lecture he would get from his friend if she caught them right now. 

"So I gather you worked things out with Granger?" Draco asked, resting his foot on his knee and placing his glass on the table too. 

"Yeah." Harry smiled. "Ron, too. We're having dinner." Draco gave him an encouraging smile.

"That's great, Harry." Harry felt his heart swell at the use of his first name. A silence filled the room, but neither of the two men broke it. They simply sat, basking in the absence of the sounds of the press and shouting, and for once feeling a unison of contentment.

"So... how d'you think we're gonna do?"

"On the case?" Malfoy looked up, smiling briefly. "Well. I hope." The blond took a sip of whiskey before continuing. "Our evidence is solid; not even Kingsley could deny that. But if the Jury will give Kardon a sentence is beyond me... He's won them over. Like a parent bribing their child with Cauldron Cakes." Harry nodded in agreement, sipping his own drink.

"Bugger about the Dementors, though, huh? Smart move using that memory; maybe we can nail him for it another time." Draco shrugged, eyes falling down into his lap as he took another sip. "Either way, whether we win this or not; I'm glad we did this. Thanks for your help." 

"No problem, Scarhead." Draco grinned, as did Harry, at the use of his old nickname. Harry sighed, wondering what to say as he watched Draco take another drink. His hair fell forward slightly, covering his eyes and brushing the rim of his glass as he pulled it from his lips. They left a foggy imprint on the clear thin glass. 

"What did we ever fight about in school? I can't even remember..." Harry grinned, watching as Draco let out a laugh. "Oh, that's right; you were a git." Draco raised an eyebrow, taking another sip. Harry copied. 

"Maybe. But I had my reasons." 

"Like what?" Harry asked, fully intrigued, and no longer joking around. The blond shrugged, face pinkening slightly. 

"I don't know... I guess I felt threatened." The blond's voice was quiet and Harry had to force himself not to laugh. 

" _Threatened_? By  _what_?" The blond puffed out his chest slightly, sitting up a bit straighter as he took a poised sip.

 "You? C'mon, you can't be that oblivious..." Harry let himself let out a laugh this time, taking another swallow of his drink, deeper this time.

" _You_  felt threatened by  _me_? Whatever for?" Draco's ears turned a light shade of red.

" _Everything_! You were better than me at  _everything_! I was so used to being first; I was so confident. I walked into that school thinking I'd be the best there, too..." Draco took another swig. He gestured to Harry. "And then  _you_  came along with your bloody atrocious hair, and fucking  _abominable_  glasses and beat me at every damn thing. Even quidditch! And you'd never even played before... For a kid who'd been told he was destined for greatness his whole life... I guess that was a pretty big shock." 

Harry glanced down into his glass, which was almost empty. 

"Well... I'm sorry I was so fantastic!" The blond snorted, and Harry laughed with him.

"That's not what I meant..." 

"I wanted to be your friend, too, you know. You intrigued me." The blond looked up, fringe falling in his face.

"Really?" Harry grinned.

"Don't flatter yourself. I wanted to be your friend  _at first_. But then you insulted Ron, and started acting like a git. And let's face it; no one wants to be friends with a git." 

"It's not my fault that Weasley was the first one standing there. I was twelve; being a little shit was the only way I knew how to be cool." Harry shrugged, placing his empty glass on the table.

"It's not like you had exactly the best parenting figures anyway..."

"Hey!" Draco said firmly, eyes cold as he looked up. "Poke all the fun at my father you want, I don't care. But don't you  _dare_  insult my mother." Harry held his hands up in faux-surrender.

"No! Of course not- I mean, she saved my life, so I'm not complaining... You're dad was a right dick though." Draco snorted, before catching himself, and his face contorted into a look of horror. 

"I guess you're right about that much." They sat in silence for a moment longer. "You know, I was surprised to see you here, the first day of auror training. -Even more surprised when we got partnered. As much as I hate to admit it though, we do make a pretty good team." Harry smiled down at his lap, scratching the back of his hand slightly. "Why  _did_  you want to become an auror? I would have presumed you'd want a job a tad further away from the spotlight..." Harry swallowed, feeling the Veritaserum still running through his veins. He hesitated.

"I didn't really want to become an auror. But it was a pretty good way to keep myself busy; very demanding. It's what everyone else seemed to want me to do, anyway. I've spent my whole life doing what everyone else wanted, so why stop now?" Draco shrugged, before standing and straightening his robes. 

"But are you happy?" Harry felt himself stop. He just stopped. He just stared down at his cuff links, hoping they'd give him some kind of answer that wasn't a lie, but wasn't really the truth either. Finally, he said,

"What kind of happy man lives alone in a messy flat, only to go to work each morning, come home, get drunk if he's lucky, fall to sleep in an empty bed, and then repeat it all the next morning?" Draco stared at him for a long, hard moment, icy eyes locked with his. Harry wondered for a brief second if the blond was performing legilimency on him, but he felt no invasion in his thoughts. Simply truth. Only honest, hard truth. 

The blond turned, opening the door to his office and stepping out. He held the door as Harry followed, and then proceeded to ward his office once more. They began walking in silence towards the court, and Harry caught himself glancing to his right every few seconds. He knew that Draco knew he was watching him. But the blond never looked up. They stopped outside the court room, wondering which path fate was about to chose. Harry wondered which headline would run on the front page of The Prophet tomorrow?  _Saviour Defeated in Gay Trial!_  or  _The Golden Boy Wins Again!_  Either way, it was sure to be an eventful night...


	14. Bars of Prisons and Bars of Pubs

"Final instalment of the Accusatory hearing of the third of April, into offences committed under the Decree for the Well-being and Treatment of Wizarding Citizens by Mason Theodore Kardon. Interrogators: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic; William Morrison, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dionysius Floella, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Norbert Pip." The Minister greeted the court, nodding discreetly to Harry before sitting, and beckoning for the rest of the room to follow. "After close and careful consideration, the court has come to a conclusion regarding charges and punishment, with the assistance of volunteered memories and information gathered with the legal use of Veritaserum from Mr Potter, and Mr Malfoy; Prosecutors."

Harry could feel himself shaking. He shouldn't be so worked up about something as simple as a conclusion. His mind was at a constant battle over why he had let Kardon get under his skin as much as he had. A part of Harry felt guilty for ever initiating this. He wonders what the world must think about how quickly he had jumped to take Kardon to court. How swiftly he had gone to Gringotts and demanded they find him their best lawyer. But another part of him was filled with a fiery rage that wished for Kardon to be dead. A part of him that wanted the other man put behind bars; to never see someone as foul as him ever again. Harry loathed Kardon more than he did himself.

Harry turned his head slightly to look at Draco. The Slytherin was rigid in his seat, eyes set in an expression of worrisome determination and leg bouncing beneath the desk. The blond, feeling Harry's eyes on him, turned his head and met his eyes. Harry gave him a hopeful smile. Draco's mouth tipped upwards, but his eyes remained cold. He turned back to the front.

"In conclusion to this case, it is my... triumph to announce that the court has found Mason Theodore Kardon..." A silence like no other was ringing throughout the room as Kingsley glanced down at the parchment he had in his hands. Harry held his breath, heart hammering and blood pumping in his ears. "Guilty." Harry felt his face crack with a huge grin and pushed back his seat and turned to Draco. Kardon roared and stood in rage. Harry watched in mild interest as four Level 3 Aurors leapt forwards, tugging at Kardon's shoulders as he stood. Kingsley looked up for a moment, before looking back down at his parchment, an almost there smile glimmering on his lips.

"The accused will be charged with twelve months in Azkaban as prosecution for harassment, discrimination, and the use of an Unforgivable Curse. Court dismissed." And with a conclusion so simple it made the entire room stutter, Kingsley stood, nodded to the two wizards on either side of him, and then to Harry and Draco, and walked out of the court.

Kardon showed no signs of resistance as he was escorted from the room. He simply stared at Harry, locking eyes with the raven-haired man and letting his mouth open slightly. Not wide enough to achieve that 'open-mouthed sicko' look, but not small enough to appear sane. His eyes flashed as if he were trying to tell Harry something without words, making a silent promise that required no vocalisation to confirm that he would never forget this moment. But then he was gone, and the sounds of the auror's foot-steps blended into the rising sound of voices in the courtroom. Harry took a step forwards as Draco stood. The blond was beaming, and Harry felt his own face reflect the blonds.

"Malfoy. Thank you." He said, voice surprisingly calm, despite how ecstatic Harry felt inside. Draco held out his hand, and Harry stared at it for a moment before tentatively taking it. The blond pulled him into a tight embrace, and Harry stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but undeniably happy. He ignored the sounds of flashing cameras and squeezed back.

"You can thank me over a drink." The blond whispered, and Harry suppressed an incredibly inappropriate shudder as the blond's hair tickled the tip of his ear and chin.

"Three Broomsticks?" He breathed. The blond nodded, and then gently pulled away, detangling himself from the other man.

Harry had apparated to the pub over half an hour ago, and still, there had been no sign of the blond man who had helped him win his case. The euphoria he had felt after leaving the Ministry had slowly been dissipating over the course of the evening, and though he was only four drinks in, he had already begun to feel the warm, but uninviting, trickles of fatigue setting in. His fear of the blond standing him up had long passed, and he had simply accepted that he was going to spend his evening alone several drinks ago.

And then a blond head bobbed through the doors, dodging an owl as it took this opportunity to escape in the most graceful way Harry had ever seen and turned to lock eyes with him. The blond walked up to the bar, ordered a drink, and then sidled up to Harry's table.

"Drunk already, Potter?" He gestured to the many bottles and glasses shoved up against the edge of the booth with a sad look in his eyes.

"Harry." Harry corrected. "And no. And even if I was, it wouldn't be my fault." The blond sighed and pulled himself carefully into the squashy seat across from Harry.

"And why would that be exactly?" The blond's voice was careful, controlled. A gentle lilt. He made enough effort to keep it emotionless, but not enough to stop from revealing that he was making an effort to be nonchalant.

"Well, you're the one who didn't turn up. I needed some way to past the time." Harry shoved an accusatory finger at the man, feelings his thoughts begin to get lost, and wondering why he was blaming his bad drinking habits on Draco.

"Ah yes," The Slytherin placed his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together. "And I'm the one who poured all those bottles of Firewhiskey down your throat, also, am I?" Harry leered, reaching for the drink the waitress had brought with her along with Draco's, a reluctant look in her eye as she passed it to Harry. "Thanks, love." Draco took his martini and took a gentle sip. Harry chuckled slightly at the blond's choice in drink for a moment, before growing grim and staring down at his lap.

Draco placed his drink down and laid his hands out on the table.

"I'm truly sorry I was late. Something urgent came up, and I needed to attend to it straight away." Harry shrugged.

"You're here now, I suppose." Draco reached out, plucking the bottle from Harry's hands easily and pushing it out of reach. "Hey!" The black-haired man straightened, glaring.

"You can have that back after we celebrate properly. Without alcohol." Harry, although part of him was still disgruntled that his drink was taken away, felt a deep sense of gratefulness towards Draco. The blond knew him better than Harry knew himself. "A toast." The blond paused, raising his glass. He arched his eyebrow at Harry, who decided to play along, and raise a clenched fist up to Draco's. The blond bumped his hand with his own slightly, and Harry let his fingers gently latch on. They stayed like that for a moment, holding hands, but not really. "To victory." The blond pulled his hand away, throwing back a large gulp of his drink, and Harry chuckled slightly as he pretended to do the same with his invisible bottle.

"Draco, I really just want to say thank you. I owe you so much-" Draco held up a hand.

"No, you don't. I'm making up for decades of being a little bitch. And for the many times you saved my life. It's going to take a while, so I'm trying to do it piece by piece. You owe me nothing." Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"So is this what it's about? I was under the foolish impression that you actually liked me." Harry's face went slightly red when he realised the blond might misinterpret what he had just said. "I mean- I don't mean like 'like like' me, but like, you know, as a friend-"

"I know what you meant, Potter, you idiot." The blond's blow was softened by the tiny smile playing on his lips. 

Harry grinned in return, glancing down at the table and then around the room. A peaceful silence settled in around them until Draco continued, “But you’re right. I do like you.” Harry glanced up but could only focus on the single strand of blond hair hanging in front of Draco’s eyes. He wanted to ask him to specify. Say, ‘ _what do you mean_?’. But a part of him knew that those questions wouldn’t be welcomed by the slightly pink Slytherin. Harry took a moment to saviour that picture before turning away. 

He asked the waitress for a glass of water before sliding back down into his couch-chair casually, finally able to embrace the warm buzz of the alcohol running through his veins.

“So… what was it that came up before, if you don’t mind me asking?” Draco’s face seemed to harden at the words. He was staring down into his glass, swirling the colourful liquid around, eyes cloudy and eyebrows furrowed. The blond didn’t answer. Harry waited for a few minutes more, barely flinching as a wizard a few tables over dropped his glass to the floor with a smash. He mentally beat himself up for not realising Draco might not have wanted to talk about this before asking. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

“My father…” The blond interrupted suddenly. He looked up and trapped Harry with his eyes. His pupils were tiny and all the muscles in his face were tight. Harry shut his mouth with a snap. “My father was released from Azkaban. Mother owled me after the heiring and told me to check the Prophet.” Harry felt something deep inside him sink in dread and pity for the forlorn man before him. He couldn’t be sure, but for a moment he looked like the scared boy he had once met in the room of requirements. The boy who was fighting for his life the only way he knew how. The boy who was wielding his mother’s wand with shaking hands, the boy who’s undereyes were so dark he looked like a walking corpse. 

“Draco, I’m so sorry…” The blond chuckled and looked down at the wooden table.

“‘Good behaviour,’ they let him out for.” His smile slipped and a pale hand came crashing down onto the table. Glasses rattled angrily and several people stopped talking to glance over at the noise. “ _GOOD BEHAVIOUR!_ ” Harry grabbed Draco’s hand in his and held it tightly in between them. He could feel the cool skin beneath his own shaking, and he held it firmer. He let his thumb stroke over the smooth skin as Draco began shaking his head. “I promised myself as a child I would always strive to be at least _half_ the man he was… I looked up to him so much.”

Harry felt his chest tighten as Draco hung his head, and tears began seeping out of his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do… He’ll want to see me. Since he disowned me all he’s asked for is to see me-”

“Wait! That old fucker had the _nerve_ to disown you?” Harry felt anger boiling hot and fresh and new for the man that he had watched do so many terrible things. Draco simply nodded, chest shuddering as he drew in a breath.

“It’s why mother and I moved out of the manor- that and the fact that it got seized by the Ministry only a few weeks later…” Harry grasped Draco’s hand in both of his and tugged it up off the table. The blond looked up through his glassy grey eyes and Harry _knew_ this wasn’t the time and he _knew_ he wasn’t supposed to be doing this but goddamnit Draco was beautiful. He looked into the eyes of the boy whom had caused him so much emotion in the past years. The boy who had caused him anger and pain, and happiness, and even been the one to make Harry question who he was. He looked into those stormy eyes, and lifted the blond’s hand to his mouth. He placed a calculated, barely-there kiss to flawless porcelain skin before lowering it back down and letting go. And for a moment he felt no longer drunk on alcohol, but drunk on love. 

“Do you want to leave here?” He asked, nodding to the back door where the apparition points were marked. Draco nodded, and Harry noted the dusting of pink on his cheeks and the way his eyes seemed to soften slightly as they stood. They burst into the alley and Harry dived to catch Draco as his foot slipped on a wet step. They stood for a moment, Draco in Harry’s arms, staring up at him as they ignored the raindrops hitting their faces. Harry felt his head spin, realising this is something he always wanted but had never imagined. He felt comfortable but bashful, he felt calm but anxious. He smiled gently, before pulling the blond to his feet properly.

“You’re usually so graceful.” He commented, to which the blond simply replied,

“Hmm?” Before he pulled his auror partner closer to him and apparated away.

His flat was already warm and inviting when they arrived. Draco seemed numb and quiet, so Harry sat him down in front of the fire and went to fetch a towel. He placed the white fluffy cloth down on the coffee table along side a change of clothes and tried not to trip when the shivering drenched man smiled up at him weakly. Harry stumbled over his words, finally managing to communicate that he was just going to get changed and for Draco to make himself at home before he tripped out of the living room. He stripped out of his ruined suit and threw on a shirt and a pair of sweats before padding to the kitchen. He flicked the kettle on and threw two pieces of bread in the toaster.

When he returned to the living room Draco was changed and sitting snugly besides the fire. His nose and eyes were red but his cheeks seemed to be dry now. “H-hey.” Harry forced out, cursing at himself for stuttering as he tried to place two mugs on the table. One missed by a long shot and Harry winced. Draco’s hand shot out suddenly, catching the drink without spilling a drop, and brought it to his lips, taking a sip.

“You’re still drunk.” The man stated simply as Harry settled heavily beside him.

“No.” Harry replied, folding his arms.

“Don’t be childish.” Draco responded, pulling his wand out from beneath him, to which Harry yelped, dodging out of the way.

“Don’t point that thing at me!”

“I’ll point it at whatever I like thank you very much, you arsehole.” Harry dove, arms reaching for the edge of the couch, but was unsuccessful. He felt the cold slap of a sobering jinx hit his thigh and flinched for a moment as it spread throughout him, tingling until it reached his head. He felt the cloudiness clear away and suddenly things he hadn’t realised had been out of focus before became a lot more realistic-looking. He sat and faced Draco who looked at him smugly, tucking his wand away.

“You couldn’t have hit me in the head instead of the leg?” Harry complained, crawling his way back towards the fire and Draco. The blond didn’t reply, but simply sipped his drink. “…Thanks.” Draco nodded. Harry summoned the two pieces of toast, jam and a knife from the kitchen wandlessly, grinning as he heard Draco mutter something along the lines of ‘show off’. He spread the sticky sweetness onto the crumbling pieces of bread and passed one to Draco. “Sorry it’s a bit burnt.” The blond shrugged and took a bite. 

“So,” Harry started, biting into his own dinner and fiddling with the seem of the rug. “What are you going to do about Lucius?” Draco glanced at him before looking back at the fire. There was a long pause before he replied.

“Short term? Avoid him. But I can’t run forever. Honestly: it’s not me I’m worried about. I’m not afraid of him. It’s what might happen if he tries to contact mother. I know she’s afraid. She doesn’t… have the same advantages I do. She has an emotional connection to him, you know? They’re still married… And even if she were able to use a curse on him, you know she cannot legally. One spell and she’ll be heading straight to Azkaban to take his place.” Harry hummed in agreement.

“Has she contacted any aurors yet to see if she can get some… I don’t know, legally binding contract or something against him?” Draco nodded.

“That’s where I was today. She needs me to get into the Ministry. But in the aftermath of the trial with Kardon, the Ministry if kind of a mess. I spoke to Stephens and he says they can’t set her up with an auror for at least a fortnight.” Harry shook his head, taking the final bite of his toast and wondering who had eaten the rest of it.

“That’s not right…”

“I suppose it is what it is. I can’t ask for anything more from them, especially when Kingsley has done so much for my family already.” They sat in silence for a while longer, simply watching the fire crackle and burn. Harry jumped when he thought he saw a face appear among the flames and logs, but nothing was there. Feeling foolish for thinking it might have been Sirius, he simply told Draco he thought he had heard something. 

Harry stifled a yawn, reclining against the couch and not even registering his shoulder brushing Draco’s.

“It’s late.” The blond mused. “I should go home now.” He stood before Harry could realize what he said and the raven-haired man jumped to his feet and grabbed the blond firmly.

“No way. You can’t apparate like this. We both learnt that in Sixth Year.” Draco shook off Harry’s hand, waving his fingers nonchalantly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“No. Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” Draco’s eyes widened and he took a minute step back.

“Potter, no; I have my own flat- not really a nice one- but it has a bed- not that you didn’t know that, it would be strange if it didn’t have a bed- and everybody has a bed- and I don’t want to impose on you especially after everything you just did for me tonight and-”

“Draco.” Harry said softly, but eyes firm and determined. “Take the bed.” The blond opened his mouth to argue once more but Harry raised his eyebrows daringly. Draco hesitated, but eventually his mouth snapped shut.

“Fine.” Harry took a step back suddenly, just now realizing how closely the two were standing. “Thank you. Harry.” Harry beamed at the sound of his name.

“Now; bed. We have our first normal day back tomorrow and it won’t be good if you’re all cranky because you didn’t get your beauty sleep.” _Not that you need it,_ Harry’s brain added helpfully. Draco snuck a hex to Harry’s hand and the Gryffindor yelped, before reaching for his own wand. But when he looked back, the blond was gone, the only thing left behind was the padding of footsteps disappearing down the hall.

“Goodnight, Draco.” The footsteps stopped for a moment.

“Goodnight… Harry.” Harry stood there for a moment, listening. The footsteps didn’t start again.

“You don’t know which room is the bedroom, do you?”

“…No.” Harry chuckled to himself before wandering down the hall after the blond.

 

 


End file.
